That feeling when you’re thinking about the last straw again, the one that will break the proverbial camel’s back and you’re really hating that you’re the proverbial camel and you’re not sure how you got the gig or how much notice you need to give to resign and will you get any severance, but seriously you can’t figure if that last straw is going to be a steel beam falling from low Earth orbit or just feel that way despite only being a feather-weight and otherwise totally inconsequential thing and of course it’s going to be the latter since that’s the whole point of the figure of speech and wondering if the stupid thing you did tonight because you’re too fucking tired to see straight is going to be *IT* or just another wasted hour tomorrow to fix and you could fix it tonight if you really, really wanted to be an A-type but if you’re too tired to do things right it’s probably an even more stupid thing to try to fix it without getting some sleep so maybe you’ll just leave this here as a reminder and instead listen to some depressing and melancholy music for a while before drifting off in exhaustion and desperation…
Or I could just stay up another hour or so and start watching World Cup games. Who’s on first, Costa Rica and Serbia?
It’s always nice to see family – it’s especially nice when said family has a gorgeous old Model A that they let me drive!
(Photo by Melanie Kordis)
My dad had a 1929 Model A – this is (I think) a 1931 Deluxe Model A. The long-suffering-sister-in-law was kind enough to let me take it out for a while with her and she didn’t have a nervous breakdown or raise her voice or nothing!
(Photo by Melanie Kordis)
She did at one point very calmly and politely point out that we were passing the local courthouse and that coincidentally this is where the local speed limit was 25 mph and she had managed to not yet ever get a speeding ticket there despite the fact that it was heavily enforced… It seemed an odd point at first, but then again, I’ve often been accused of being a slow learner. (I slowed down, we did not get a ticket.)
Driving the Model A requires a delicate touch, even for those who are used to driving a stick shift. After doing my best to take 20,000 miles off the life of the transmission, I was catching on much better at the end. It was fun!
That feeling when all you want to do is get some sleep, a lot of sleep, get caught up on sleep without being woken up by stress dreams or fever dreams or a full bladder or leg cramps (most of all by leg cramps!) and when you wake up you want it to all be better so that tomorrow (as being defined as “what happens when I wake up”) is missing all of the really shitty things from today but keeps all of the really good ones.
Not sure you can get there from here.
The only way out is through. Sleep deprived or not.
That feeling when it seems you’ve been beaten heavily about the head and shoulders for weeks and except for being in ICU or prison or the morgue it’s not clear what else can go wrong or add more stress and you’re about to give in and go with “barely good enough” because it’s all that’s available and even that’s iffy but it’s all you’ve got left and “Plan D” is a HUGE freakin’ leap that’s sort of a last resort but at least you have that option when all of a sudden with no warning there’s an opportunity that’s like a bolt of lightning and while you really don’t dare to hope because you’ve gotten your spirits crushed repeatedly you want to hope and you need to hope and when things actually fall into place and this huge weight is being lifted you’re horrified to find that almost all you can think of is a nightmare “what if” scenario where all of this good stuff is just a trap that will temporarily put you on a pedestal so that the upcoming fall will be that much harder and you want to tell your brain to STFU but you can’t quite get past that as fast as things got better for no damn good reason other than blind luck they can get horrible again just as fast.
“Adulting” is sucking it up and going ahead full speed with the good things, despite knowing that those bad things might still be lurking.
Did you see “Arrival” a couple years ago? The big reveal at the end left me a weeping puddle. This is why.
We go on, despite our fears. Maybe some day we’ll even be able to let go of some of the fear.
A sad tale in one image.
That feeling when it’s dark but not too late yet and you’ve been busting your ass all weekend and you’re really tired and sweaty and from a couple of blocks away you can hear some music and you’re thinking about how different sounds and frequencies carry better than others because what you hear clear as a bell (if faintly) is a trumpet line from some music and you’re thinking that must be why trumpets were used in battle and so on, because the sound carries further, and you’re thinking it must be a quinceañera or something with a mariachi band when suddenly all of the pieces snap into place and you realize it’s the background trumpet music from the choruses of The Monkees’ “Daydream Believer” and you wonder if you’ll ever be able to listen to mariachi music the same way again.
After a delightful long weekend in Toronto, it was back to work, packing and panicking, and trying to find any spare time at all to try to keep current with what’s going on out at the hangar.
Two images stuck with me all week:
Remember this scene near the end of “Deep Impact,” after the comet’s hit? Metaphorically, I’ve been Lea Leoni in this scene every freaking day.
I’ve been trying to be this mouse all week. I don’t know how well it worked, I feel a lot more like an owl pellet at the moment.