Vermillion Cotillion

I don’t think it’s healthy to spend all day berate yourself for the small, weird habits you’ve no doubt accumulated over a lifetime of compensating for a less than satisfactory environment, but I do think I should stop closing Tumblr and immediately, without thought, open a tab and type it in the address again.  Like obsessively.  Like three times in a row. I think I should avoid doing that.

Distraction, distraction, distraction.

Today was one of the most beautiful days on record in my little town.  My hometown-worktown, not the place I currently live though it was beautiful here, too.  I got out a little bit and enjoyed it for a few minutes walk to lunch and back.  We talked about the best places to see the trees change color locally and we sat around the table for the “smoke break” and I remembered that I liked these people, for the most part.  It was nice, particularly in light of the harsh reality that is coming to pass tomorrow night.  Snow is coming in some form or another and this would be alright, especially given that my boss has already offered me a ride in on Wednesday morning for our full-day meeting (not that we’d cancel it or anything sensible), but because I’m pretty much in a DEFCON 5 situation level regarding slick roads.  Like I cannot.  You think I could and I could last year.  After the accident, though, I’ve been driving the furthest, backest, roundaboutest roads there are – roads that are not ideal during iffy weather.  And I know I cannot drive the main roads because I know I will lose it while driving.  This is not a maybe.  It’s completely horrible, but it’s like at this point, a gray sky is all it takes to trigger the anxiety and I haven’t had to deal with that until they started talking about it today.

I know that my panic is already without sense and without limit.

It’s getting to be that season.  I wish I was brave.  I made it through last year and I’ll make it through again.  But this time, I am going to rely on the bus if I don’t want to drive.  The route will suck and be stupid and slow, but I cannot have that feeling rattling around in my head: that anxious reliving of the car sliding into the bank, of not having control, of the brakes not working, of being trapped inside this metal cage that now has free-will as well as enormous fucking mass and has absolutely no regard for my life within.   I don’t need it.  I have enough real stress without prophetic stress.

Well, this isn’t really where I intended to go today.  Wanted to talk about Barbara Sher and her impact on me and watching her videos, but I’ll let that go.  Time now to wrap up, pull down the shades, pull up the covers, get the laundry in the oven, start the pushing and the shovin’ and turn off the lights on this rodeo.

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