Was over on Facebook (come be my friend!) and changed the “What are you doing feature” to “ThomG is pondering why he is his own worst enemy.”
The Queen said it first. And she went on to tell me the little hamsters in my head keep churning around on their wheels. And that I shouldn’t listen to the creaky rotations. Nice try, but it gets late, you’re on the verge of sleep and you start thinking of what you’ve just done over the last 60 days.
And the wheels spin.
Truth is, I am homesick for certain aspects of my former life. And I am conflicted, since I very much appreciate the opportunities that await me on the Great Plains.
Creak. Creak. Creak.
Patience has never been a virtue. But as I’ve aged, I’ve been able to incorporate it into my life.
Thing is, I was safe and secure and staid for 11 years. Until one day while you keep listen to the voice that says “keep your arms and head in the ride at all times and don’t make any sudden movements for your personal safety and security” and you do something like move 1,700 miles to a place where you personally know all of two people.
And start completely over.
I like the blank canvas. I like that I’ve started to add color from a plentiful palette.
But the night comes, that time before sleep when my mind tends to race over events of the day, events of my life, and I worry that change isn’t happening fast enough.
When it certainly is. Sixty days. I quit one job, sold my shit, hit the road, started a new job in a new city and jumped right in.
The slack I keep cutting myself is lacking.
(I hope this wasn’t tedious for any specific reader of The Tension.)
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