The Bottleneck (Blog #508)

Last night I dreamed that I was running in Dallas–of all places–and couldn’t quite pick up my feet. I’ve had dreams like this before, like, I’m not moving as fast as I want to. But this time I was lost. I couldn’t quite find where I was supposed to be going (my hotel, I think). I checked my GPS, and it provided the correct route–a straight shot up the interstate. HOWEVER there was a huge traffic jam–a bottleneck–six lanes of traffic trying to squeeze into one. Finally it cleared up. Just like that, all the cars and me (on foot!) were flowing through. No longer lost or jammed up like we were before. On our way as if nothing had happened.

Currently it’s four in the afternoon, and I’ve only been up for a couple of hours, since–again–I worked late last night helping some friends pack for an upcoming move. We’re getting SO close to done. As we’re working again this evening and I have a myriad of other things to do before then, I seriously need to keep this short. I feel like I’ve been saying this a lot lately–I’m in a rush–I don’t have to write–I don’t have time to read–I don’t have time to wipe my ass. Ugh. It’s so frustrating. No wonder my stomach has been upset.

“It’s stress,” my friend, who’s a pharmacist, said last night. “Everything is stress.”

No kidding. If I had to describe last night’s dream in one word, that would be it–stress. It’s just the worst sensation to feel like you’re not moving fast enough or like you’re all jammed up. That’s what it feels like lately–the bottleneck–like I have so much going on, and I’m not sure any of it’s getting me anywhere. Plus, my body still isn’t back to normal. I’m dragging, forcing myself at times. Last night one of my friends said, “How are you functioning?” and I said, “Willpower. It’s just willpower.”

In last night’s dream there was a brief pause, something that happened between the huge traffic jam and everything clearing up. I don’t know, it was like a rest, a break in the bottleneck, when everyone collectively realized how crazy it was to force-force-force the situation rather than letting it flow. And that’s when it worked, when we stopped trying to push every little damn thing. That’s when we were on our way again. So maybe I can stop pushing too. Maybe I can stop trying to run so fast and simply walk instead. Or maybe I can stop completely, watch other people go first, and think, I’ll be on my way soon enough–yes, it will be just like that–as if nothing had happened.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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It's enough to sit in, and sometimes drag ass through, the mystery.

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Don’t Worry, Mom (Blog #483)

It’s just before midnight, Pacific Standard Time, and I’m in Somewhere, California. It took me a solid fourteen hours of driving to get here from Albuquerque, including one hour stuck in traffic due to construction. I’m absolutely ready for bed. So much so that it doesn’t matter that I’m in a cheap motel and completely disgusted by the bad decor and awful lighting. Granted, I AM wondering how many people have been murdered in my room, but I don’t think that will keep me from getting a decent night’s sleep.

Don’t worry, Mom. I’m exaggerating about the motel. Although I DID have to walk to a gas station to get my own shampoo because all they gave me was a quarter-sized bar of soap. (I could have driven to get it, but I’m SICK of driving.)

The long haul out here went well. I listened to three lectures by Joseph Campbell, two marketing podcasts by Seth Godin, two origin-of-dirty-words podcasts, and a lot of Madonna and friends. The scenery in Arizona was stunning, despite the thin air at 7,000 feet altitude. (I didn’t take any pictures.) The desert heat got up to 118 degrees, at least according to the outside thermometer on Tom Collins (my car). Thank God for air conditioning. Parts of California smell like the Arkansas/Oklahoma State Fair–like barnyard animals or wet socks. But where I am now is–decent.

When I got stuck in traffic, Google Maps told me that I was in an eight-minute slow down. Then it bumped it up to nine minutes, then ten. But it lasted a freaking hour. (Come on Google, get your act together.) Thankfully, no one was in a crash–it’s just that they were doing repairs to the two-lane highway, so it temporarily had to become a one-lane highway. Still, it was bumper-to-bumper, and the whole situation made me so nervous that–as my dad says–you couldn’t have driven a spike up my butt with a sledgehammer. The silver lining for me, however, was that I got to watch the sun go slowly down over the desert. Gorgeous.

After the sunset, I noticed myself getting nervous. Maybe hyper-aware is a better phrase. At home I love the dark, but California is foreign territory for me. I haven’t been here since I was a child, and I’ve NEVER driven these roads. You know–what if something happened? (Don’t worry, Mom, I’m okay.) Plus, I’m alone. Not that I can’t take care of myself–I DID buy my own shampoo!–but it’s always easier when you’re with another person. But again, other than the terrible lighting in this tawdry motel, things are dandy. I’ve eaten, locked the door, brushed my teeth, and am ready for the la-la land. I’m excited about the dance event this weekend. With any luck, I’ll have an easy morning, a few more hours on the road, and I’ll be THERE.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

Good night.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Your emotions are tired of being ignored.

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