I just discovered the email I sent to a blog enthusiast that got me thinking it might be for me. While the thoughts are a bit dated - before the move when I commuted three towns and a mountain to get to my new job - but apparently was written in such a blog worthy way that a creator and avid reader of the blog told me to start one of my very own. Enjoy.
I thought it amusing that the instant I hit the freeway I stopped moving at all - lending me the time to send a text message. When I hit the town boarder and sped up for the two miles with no ramps, I wasn't surprised that this particular batch of molecules I happened into couldn't manage to add any more without returning to a standstill. But when I came out on the other side of Camarillo to see a standstill all the way up the grade, I knew I was in trouble.
I got rid of the soulful Ericka Badu CD and tried the Mark and Brian program for some relief of the WTF attitude that strikes, even in momentarily, whenever you are faced with the fact that your car seat is cushioned for a reason. I ended up with Beduan Soundclash back in the player (it was only shelved for three days actually) and tried to be thrilled to have a few extra minutes to plan my attack of my job duties for the week and to be able to be by myself for a bit. But when it hit 1/2 later and I was barely at the summit, I was a little beyond the joy of it all, had been through enough deep breaths to hyperventilate, singing to the songs was just a reason to be vocal at which point I took liberty to shout explitives at will, only to see the salvation that will be mine next week - the freeway exit to my new home... right before the one I would take to get to work today.
No longer did I care that I would be 40 minutes late to work. No longer did the mercedes in front of me the whole way up the hill with no break lights torment my patience. No longer was I upset that I didn't take the time for a cup of coffee or milk or OJ before dashing out of my house. I was suddenly thrilled to have a reason to push on through the day, get home late, take my time eating whatever take out I subject myself to, and then get busy loading every box I can find into the garage and cleaning like a mad woman so as to avoid the already accumulated chastising from the roomies that I don't do a damn thing and they are sick of pulling my weight.
As I crossed the exit only lane divider and pulled off the freeway, I knew I would have cup of coffee in my hand when I left the office so as to be motivated to move as soon as I hit the door - no excuses to not stay up and do the work tonight!! And as I rolled into my chair with barely a glance from anyone on my way there, I realized that in a job where the work gets done no matter the time, it isn't a major deal to show up 40 min late... its just another day in a cube of grey walls.
And suddenly I remembered what it was like to not give a shit. Its not a cold world, and not hot from the heat of rage either. It is that nonchalant go with it kind of mellow early summer 72 degrees and partly cloudy world where there is nothing to do but what is in front of you. I was drawn to the world of the passionate, but have been seduced by the tranquility of taking it all in stride. I'll work hard today once I can get anyone to tell me what the next step is, I'll convince myself work starts at 8am to prove I can be on time and early without killing myself over it, I'll show these managers I can handle the work and crave more, and I'll continue to indulge in the night life that calls to me. And if I can do it all in the "Office Space" hum drum attitude, it will be the icing on my cupcake when a box of chocolate covered macadamia nuts make it to my desk from Hawaii, and nothing else.
Though I am still in the Garfield state of half sleepy, half masted, half witty banter, half laugh at it all kinda mind frame that comes only when faced with a day when bed is the only appetizing thing offered, I am ready to be swept away into whatever diatribe you choose for the day (I had my choice yesterday =) )