I’m taking a deep breath this weekend. A very, very deep breath. I am doing something that is insanely reckless and yet rather sedentary and boring. It involves Amtrak, a wicked fun yet really kind of silly excuse for the trip, and a long period of time during which I can do nothing but stare out the window at moving scenery, think, listen to my iPod, and knit.
No laptop. No “must read, important!” stuff. No portable keyboard for the Treo (which is how I usually cheat on ‘no laptop’ outings). No email. No blog reading or writing. Apart from catching the trains on time (which do have a rather no-nonsense start time) (well, THEY can be late - the riders, not so much), no to-do list.
Hopefully, I can get a system reboot. I’ve been feeling very old lately, which is ridiculous because hello, I’m only forty. Not forty-eleven, which is how I feel. I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired, and flustered, and frantic, and freaking out because this or that or the other thing isn’t going on schedule OH MY GAWD, somebody dial 911, we are NOT on SCHEDULE…!
I think the Universe is trying to say something to me. I really do. That storm-feeling is still there; a feeling of unresolved Something is just laid on me thicker than ants on a piece of Kettlecorn. Did you know ants love that stuff? Neither did I, until one of the Denizens stashed some under the sofa and the next morning I had an Indiana Jones moment: “…why does the floor move…?”
ANYWAY. Hopefully the forced idleness of the train will settle me down enough to listen.
It’s hard to listen when you’re screaming.
I’ll see y’all Monday-ish. If I can find the camera, I’ll bring pictures of the silly excuse!
The Shoemaker’s Children
23 hours ago