The only certainty is bad grammar

So I’m seriously hoping that the Occupy Wall Street protesters will convince everyone to forgive student loan debt.

No. For real.

They seem like a bunch of people with student loan debt, and seeing as how it would stimulate the economy if me and everyone else didn’t have to shovel $310 to the federal government every month just to keep up with interest, I think the idea is totally winning.

And speaking of winning, I finally got some basic cable in my crib. (Crib is cool still, right?). I also got internet. Good news: Basic cable comes with free OnDemand! Holla! History Channel’s Ancient Alien, here I come. Bad news: The very most basic cable and internet package possible still is costing me $55 a month. Losing.

Speaking of losing, I got the flu shot this week at work, and then promptly got a (very) mild version of the flu.

I had never got the shot before, but I have to say — not sure it’s worth it. I got a slight fever, and the chills and that achy feeling where it hurts when air touches your skin. And I slept about 24 hours over a 36-hour period. True story.

Everyone tells me that it’s better than the real flu, which I believe. It’s just that I feel I like gambled with my body. I feel like getting the shot is only worth it if you know for 100 percent that you’re going to get the flu. Which I don’t.

I mean, ya, whatever, I was really excited when my company gave me the shot for free. I felt like it was a neat perk at my job and that the higher ups really do care about me. And my co-workers said that I needed it because I travel all the time to and from candy conferences and whatnot.

But I’m still undecided about getting it next year, seeing as how it kicked the crap out of me.

And speaking of undecided, I’m feeling really all right about being single these days.

I used to worry about my biological clock and whatever, but I have since come up with a back-up plan if I don’t get knocked up in time. Say it with me. A-dopt-ion.

Problem solved.

And, as my little sister said, it could be worse. I could be trying to find my second husband.

True that. Girl. True. That.

And speaking of my little sister, she sprained her ankle for, seriously, the fourth time since February.  I too am cursed with weak ankles (see: falling off a side walk, falling in a Target parking lot, falling in Jazzercise, etc.). It sucks.

I feel really bad for her. And I just wanted to take this chance to tell her: I’m praying for you. I hope you get better soon. And I love you so much I can’t even explain it.

And, well, speaking of love, umm, God.

I had a sort of epiphany recently about the big guy.

I used to think that if he didn’t answer my prayers exactly, and didn’t make everything better all the time, then He either didn’t exist or that He was a jerk or that I couldn’t count on Him.

It sounds so silly to take things into your own hands, but it often feels so much easier.

But the more I’ve gotten to know Him, the more I understand how to connect with Him. And I’ve learned to feel Him, and rely on Him. And well, if there’s just one thing I wish I could explain adequately to people it’s that just because He doesn’t respond to prayers like they’re a wishes and He’s a genie, doesn’t mean He doesn’t care or that’s He’s not there.

Also, that prayer works. It’s just almost never in the way you expect.