And the more frustrated and uncertain I become, the faster I drive. Headed toward somewhere I don’t mean to go, I become hell-bent on getting there as fast as I can. I have a good sense of direction, which means I don’t get lost all that often, so who knows, maybe I feel like I’ll find a way out sooner that way. But it’s not a conscious thing at all.
Well, my life has felt like that for the last couple of months.
I’ve taken on an extra responsibility, one that requires a few hours of study time each day. (I’m studying for a professional exam that’s about as far from anything I would have ever picked for myself to do – and, seriously, yawn – but it will help our family’s bottom line, so I’m doing it. Kind of like every other grown up in the world who goes to a job they don’t like, so I’m not whining about it, I promise. My fingers are firmly hooked through my bootstraps. Plus, it’s kind of something-to-fall-back-on, too, if the need is ever there. If I pass (or when, I should say), it will be a good thing to have under my belt. The exam isn’t until April, but only 10% of those who take the test actually pass, so holy crap, I’d better study.)
The studying has changed my days, and hasn’t left much time for writing. (It’s also the reason I had to abandon NaNoWriMo after 8000 words.) So I feel the trade-off in a big way. I’ve switched out one thing for another, and I miss the thing I’m giving up right now, especially since I was gathering some momentum in the writing I was doing. I don’t feel like myself, either, even though I know this is temporary and will be worth it. (But wasn’t studying easier when I was younger? Good god, what happened to my brain?)
All of it leaves me feeling like I’m speeding toward the unknown, on unfamiliar roads, faster and faster as the weeks pass.
And definitely feeling lost.
I haven’t even been going on my drives. A couple of short ones, but not my favorite route. Seriously, if it keeps going like this, you should all ask me change the name of this blog. You should insist, really.
Or. Maybe I’ll carve out at least enough time to do that one thing for myself. It’s been almost two months – sometime around the middle of October – since I’ve driven my usual route, and do I ever feel it.
This week, though, I will. I might not even wait until Thursday. And maybe when I come back home, I can slow down a little bit.
And maybe, just maybe, I won’t feel so lost.
Just this week, I discovered the music of Ray Lamontagne (one of his songs was featured at the end of Private Practice, which I happened to catch this week). I am in love with his music now – but I’m wondering, am I the last one to know about this guy?
When I heard this song, I knew it would become a favorite. The lyrics…I’m pretty sure he wrote them just for me.
I just bought his album Gossip in the Grain, and can say for sure that it will settle comfortably into its very own spot in my CD changer in the car. I can also imagine listening to it on Sunday morning, with the New York Times spread out in front of me on the bed (if I ever got to do that these days). YouTube has a decent selection of his songs. Check out Let It Be Me, Roses and Cigarettes, Shelter, and Be Here Now. And this: Empty. (Oh, and then buy the album!)