It is time not to spiral out. It would be delicious to spasm endlessly about what is and therefore, what is not. But I am so short on time for pleasure. So short on time for the creative wonderment part of my gig, that if I spend the next four hours in dread, I don’t get to calm down at all. And oh, how I covet calm in this world gone ten times mad.
I don’t want to do it, but I can. I can get up early and I can drive to the station and I can take the flipping bus tomorrow for an hour to get to the job I don’t want to do and I can take it back. I can pay an exorbitant amount for a Lyft if I somehow fuck up getting either of those things to happen. I can put some food in a plastic dish and bring it with me. I can blearily stare straight ahead for eight hours. I can plot and sigh and observe and survive two episodes of this until I get a long break to consider how to get out of it.
Tis an odd thing to know you are just objectively wholly and utterly opposed to something, but there is not choice but to watch it happen. I am going to watch it happen.
Obviously, that is not just the negative turns my life has taken, but the world as a whole. Knowing I can only do what I can do, and not a single iota more, and the same is said for everyone, and yet, here we are in the muck. Someone has to push harder. Is it you? Is it me? I can only suggest, with any hope of actual progress, that I have to do more and the deep sigh that runs through me when I think that I’m the weak link here. That I need to raise a wider, more rambunctious rallying cry. Everything is intertwined.
So, I fill out the cards I swear I could not find time to fill out, and I take a breath. I can put myself in the car at 7:45 tomorrow morning. I can get on the bus at 8:06. I can get on the next bus at 8:25. I can arrive at 8:47 and walk 4 minutes to the office. I can manage it even if I’d rather lick toilets all day.
Is that too far?
Anxiety is interrupted by gratitude.
I am grateful that I am so easily appeased. I am grateful for talented Japanese guitarists being competent and wearing face paint. I am grateful that even as we edge closer to the brink, today was not the day to tip face-first over it. I am grateful for my mother’s health. I am grateful for intermittent intervention. I am grateful that my time spent in the baby store today did not warp me too greatly. I am grateful that I can manage this post. I can do that little tiny bit to extend myself forward.