Interludes

The season of limbo.  The time of year that the calendar pages seem to flip in slow motion.  

Historically, once March arrives in the middle/south, we can say goodbye to the foreshadowing meridian of winter’s clutches.   We begin getting sporadic, unexpected teases from the sun, that vixen of hope, promising warmer, longer, laughter-filled days.   

In the last three years or so, I seem more and more anxious to leave behind the dark and colorless cold that strips me of resolve and optimism.  Should I blame it on this "midlife" stage of my life?  Can I simply attribute it to a number on my timeline?  And should I expect it to worsen with every year?  Argh!  Please, say it ain't so.  I can hardly bear to think about it and what it does to me.  I’ve evolved into a lifeless killjoy to the point that I hardly recognize myself anymore.

Who are you these days?  Do I know you?  

Just what's up with you anyway?  

Oh -- Excuse me while I take this call ... (She's no good for you, T, run for your life!)

Oh, do get a grip.  So many countless blessings.  Enough to fill a single-spaced spiral notebook … or maybe a few?  Far too many to dwell (and rot) on the smog of monotony.

So to dodge it, I do what works best.  I find distractions.  Focusing my mind on the positive, the productive, the entertaining, the engaging.  Time will pass far more quickly this way.   I wake reluctantly to my alarm this morning, telling myself I needed sleep more than the gym.  I do that a lot. But I just kept moving, one foot in front of the other, then coffee, then the cold morning air jarring my sluggish senses into motion. And sure enough, by twelve minutes into cardio on the elliptical, I was putting on my training gloves, ready to burn it with the weights.  Leg Day.  And I was even okay with THAT!  

After getting ready for work, I look outside and see that I'll need an umbrella as I make my way to the car for the morning commute.  I begin the drive, dreading the day, pissed that it's cold and gray and ugly and lifeless looking out there -- AGAIN -- wishing I could turn around, go home, and crawl back into bed.  But rather than focusing on the sleet and rain on my commute, the morons clogging up the left lane, I cranked up the volume knob and begin singing -- out-singing -- with Dido’s “Thank You.”  Great song!  Oh, isn't music one of the BEST therapists?  And then another song, and another, and then I’m whizzing past yet another moron, passing him in his land yacht on the right, and whipping back around him before taking the last left and into my parking building.  Excuse me, biscuit-eatin', goin-nowhere-in-particular-today cruiser!  (Being diplomatic with my word choice here.)  Coming through. 

Done.  I made it.  See, life is still good.

And suddenly it’s mid morning.  I’m sitting at my desk, bored, caught up with work, and no docket for the day.  My stomach begins to growl.  NO, I said to myself emphatically, YOU’RE NOT HUNGRY ALREADY.  YOU WILL NOT EAT … NOT YET.  MOVE ALONG!  And there it goes, my mind begins to roam, heading in directions that it doesn’t need to go.  

Disengage the crap, T.  Let go of the mind fog.  

  

And that’s when I grabbed my Kindle, waiting to be escorted to THAT OTHER PLACE I so desperately needed to go today.

  

So I’ve been reading this rather boring book on my Kindle, The Unimaginable.  I chose it because its description snared me and because it got rather good reviews.  I love that my Kindle gives me that little percentage meter at the bottom of the display, allowing me to see how far I’ve progressed.  Ironically, I’d almost given up on this book several times.  Typcially if it doesn’t grab me by the third chapter (or before), I ditch it.   

I’m not completely sure why I've stayed so long this time.  It wasn’t until I hit the 50%+ that I became engrossed -- the kind of engrossed where you forget where you are, what day it is, all stimulus blocked, all sights, sounds, smells temporarily stifled.  All that you're aware of  is the next word on the page, the next sentence, the next paragraph.  Give it to me!  Keep it coming.  I’m hooked.

So.  The three main characters have found themselves in a very dangerous predicament, encountering unspeakable terrors by a band of pirates on their leisure passage across the Indian Ocean.  "Unspeakable terrors."  I’ve finally hit the good stuff.  And I read on because there is something about Jessica, the main character, that resonates with me.  A description of the book reads:  “After twenty-eight years of playing by the rules,” referring to Jessica.  And so she's successfully escaped from the ordinary … but now look where it’s landed her?  In one dangerous and deadly terror-filled mess.

And I love that Kindle allows me to highlight and create notes:

Jessica:  “…but I always felt out of place, like I was just biding my time, waiting to be transported somewhere else where people wouldn’t roll their eyes at my curiosity and desire [to see more, do more, meet new people, learn new things] … but I was a practical girl so I learned to curb my enthusiasm, fly under life’s radar, and wait until the time was right to follow my dreams instead of everyone else’s…happy vs. comfortable…in the end I think I was running to something rather than running away from it…”

 

Yeah, I found myself whispering silently to myself as I read those words.  

I get that.

And so I read on, waiting for their inevitable rescue...

waiting for the main guy and Jessica to fall in love and live happily ever after...  

Yeah, yeah, yeah...Way too predictable.

But I've gotten this far, and I'm in it for the long haul.  

Besides, before I know it I’ll awaken from this dormant interlude and it will be the first day of spring