Today is great because…

Today – 7:30am

Posted: November 16th, 2009 | Author: | Filed under: Inspiration, Nothingness | Comments Off

I had a bad day at work today.  I came home, made some dinner then watched the “Special Features” on a Jack Kerouac documentary that I’ve been watching.  After my pasta was gone and the red netflix envelop was resealed and ready for the mail, I wasn’t sure what, then, to do with myself.  I tried Facebook.  I tried email. And I found nothing.  Even though I’d already specifically made up my mind that reading a book at 7pm was a waste of good hours–I’ve got so much to get done!–I laid back and opened up American Gods and turned on The Wall (…and kicked off my Nikes…and unlatched my Rolex…and scratched my Head…and On…and On…and On…).

Knowing what to do with myself is a problem that I deal with daily.  I’m overwhelmed or I’m underwhelmed, it’s difficult to decipher whether there’s a difference or not.  The moral, though, is that I was letting a bad day at work bitter up the rest of my life and I couldn’t figure out what to do.  Even though I spent most of the afternoon dreaming about 5:30pm, when I’d get to leave, come home and do…do?…do anything else.

For the past few weeks I’ve been waking up early most days before work so I can have an hour to write.  It has been a savior.  I’ve been saving myself.  7:30 to 8:29am is the best hour of my day.  There’s hope. There’s possibility.  The sun is rising on my day.  There’s no questioning anything at that time in the morning. 8:30am is the worst part of my day, when I have to  shut the notebook, realizing that I have to get on the bike and get to work.  The hill of the day slopes downward from there and I roll through the 10am meeting, the aggressive phone calls from clients, a lonely sandwich with the daily paper at lunch, an afternoon push when I wander the hall toward a soda machine.  As I’m leaning over my bike to free the lock from the parking meter where my bicycle has been waiting for me the ground starts to level off.  It’s dusk by this time, downtown is right there in front of me, glowing just a few blocks away.  But it’s hard to see it the way I used to not all that long ago.  The glittering urban romance of a skyline now appears more like a field of bloated peckers spotted with fluorescent windows.

Tonight I rode home at top speed.  I got home just in time.