Barely home from work and errands. Hungry to the point of shaking. Left the bag of necessary items in the car -of course. Back on with the shoes. It’s a short trip to the car, but the weather tonight takes me all the way to November. My mind is ecstatic and pinballing off of: all the new today; all the new to come; ideas, and to-dos, and still not dones; the way my soul is dragging its psychoemotional feet, now shod in culturally misappropriated Doc Martens, trying to stay where I was; my daily question to myself, the metric I have to pass – did I do one thing to move forward on each one of my goals today?
I’m jumpy. I’m joyful. I’m jealous. Of a friend who’s going all in on NYC to try to make it there. In spite of the passing of Maya Angelou who is such a great reminder to go ahead and be amazing. I want to settle but there is so much I want to do – the immediate needs, the long-term wants, the spontaneous desires along the way.
Perhaps I’m concerned that all of that will be crushed by the constant ‘Must Be Appropriate!’ spotlight and klaxon of my impending work trip, and I’m trying to get it all out before the dress clothes go on. Maybe I’m a little bit nervous that no one has given me any idea what my responsibilities are on this junket. Or maybe my happy little heart is just determined to beam out and try to fill others. Best course of action seems to be roll merrily along.