Have you ever eaten an orange, and thought, I wonder if oranges taste the same for everyone? Or if the “orange taste” to me is different from an orange taste for someone else. Is the color orange the same to everyone’s eyes? Perhaps the color blue, is orange to someone else. And the only real difference is the actual word. I don’t really think this is true.

But I like to think about it sometimes. Maybe I’ve been doing too much thinking lately. Most people who know me, know that I’m the kinda girl who just does stuff. (I try to think before I do….)

You know, I make  dinner.
I exercise.
I clean.
I shop.
I sip coffee with friends.
I watch old movies.
I laugh with family.
I go for walks with the husband.
I do my homework.

But I hardly everrrrr think about myself. What I really feel, or who I really am. I know some people sit around thinking about themselves. And I have had friendships fizzle out because I couldn’t take the over analyzing any more. Or, they couldn’t take me not participating in it. But lately I’ve been thinking about myself. Who I am. And I decided I just can’t label myself. Really. (besides my profession) I change constantly. And I guess it’s true that God knows me better than I know myself.

Sometimes I wonder what the stranger sitting beside me thinks about me. First impressions.  Looking at my outer shell. I’ve had friends say that when they first met me
they thought I was stuck up. This makes us laugh. I don’t care what people think about me, what their impression is of me, until they get to know me. Then, for better or worse,
their opinion becomes important to me, because if I let them  get that close, then I must love them.

So it’s too much trouble to label yourself when people see the labels different ways, and more often than not, the label just doesn’t match what’s inside.

And now you know the story behind this layout. That’s what I was thinking this morning on my commute to school.

This is what happens when your car stereo is stolen.