BRB, G-d

I was going to call or write but I was too busy and caught up in the latest
This American Life
too busy listening to stories to tell you my own and besides
who even cares about my pensive, apprehensive, stoic,
“veggie burger existence”,
in which I am so fixated on meeting deadlines, I’ve taken to using an Excel spreadsheet called “tasks” to remind myself to pack a microwaveable lunch for the next day.

I can’t stop sensing I’ve forgotten something-
to print my essay to bring to my sociology seminar,
to call my grandparents,
to refill my prescriptions,
to wash my dishes,
to speculate on the peace process,
to ask the big questions about life and Torah and meaning. But
who has time for that?

I am starting to understand the adults I used to criticize for being too caught up in their grocery lists to worry about their purpose on this earth,
to feel some kind of humility for the time my mom reminded me to use one egg for fudgy brownies and two for cake-like, when
I asked her what to do about my layers of cognitive dissonance.

I am starting to feel some distance from, despite my soul-kinship with, Angela Chase.
Her angst is cute and all, but who has the luxury of that these days?
While she and Holden Caulfield are busy dreading their lives, and assessing the Phonies, some of us are making sure our veggie burgers don’t burn, and that our Works Cited pages are properly indented.

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And I know there are those who find some kind of soul-resonance in the mundane,
and I’ve been there,
and I aspire to that,
and I do see you, G-d, in the produce aisle
and in the Chaka Khan playing as I pace through it.

And I know You are never far away,
and that nothing else really matters,
and that if I only used my time better,
I could be reaching new heights of inspiration instead of dozing off to a nostalgic viewing of Daria.

And someday, please G-d,
I’ll probably look back and realize there was something Bigger in this moment,
that ‘Surely the Lord is in this place; and I knew it not,’
that You’ve been here all along.

I’m just writing to say I miss You,
and I’m planning on calling soon, I swear.
Just wait for me, please,
until after midterms,
and after I stock up on veggie burgers and longing.