First of all, because I forgot to mention, Richard Blais did not win Top Chef, but the other chef I liked, Stephanie, did.
There are many things I put a lot of thought into. While others may not think they're important, somewhere in the depths of my mind they are important to me. Permis-moi to elaborate a little. That does not mean I "worry" about things that others think aren't important. "Worrying" is different than "thinking" due to its negative connotation.
Last night I attempted nearly 24 hours of my life into a 45-minute conversation. Oh I can almost guarantee that was disasterous with discussions about IBM PS/1, Dot Matrix printers, my uncanny ability to remember minute details, AOL and their "free 10 hours" when they first came out, my first online chat (about the Yankees), how I must have had a bad dream or a good dream the night before, etc. Can you see how my mind works? Probably not - but, in some form or another, all of that ties together.
So here we have today. The first part of my day here at work was 'Hands-On' with me being queen of a torque wrench. "Jugs" was so not allowed to play with the wrench after nearly taking off our toes with the end we were using. Okay, well, that lasted for two hours. Then what?
It's 2:17, and I can only think of two productive things I've done. I'm trying to find stuff to do, but it's not working. Leaving my mind to its own devices is incredibly dangerous. So I start drawing a paintbrush drawing to send off as another comic. Okay - I guess that makes 2-1/2 productive things accomplished.
But uh oh, what do we have here? An afternoon of self-reflection. Well I remember what happened the last time I did that.
This past Monday afternoon. I decide to go for an extended hike. I pack water. I pack my camera, my cell phone, and my pack with a small hand towel and sunscreen. What I didn't pack was my self-confidence, was my internal strength, and was my ability to completely clear my head and just go. I forgot to pack those. So halfway up one trail, my mind has already started working. It's officially in overdrive. I lose my concentration and my focus to continue hiking the triple starred, highlighted in red, marked "extremely strenuous" mountain trail, and am forced to turn around for the lack of wanting to slip, lose footing, and end up in an awful predicament. I get down to the trailhead again and decide to take a more leisurely stroll marked "somewhat strenuous." I have taken out my water bottle and sipped, and then I get a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach as I think about some things. I suddenly feel nauseated and can't tell if it's from that feeling or from early onset of heat complications. I am forced, again to turn around, this time, my mirrored lenses of my sunglasses hide my tear-flooded eyes as I hike back down the second trail and call it a wash for the day.
I smile as a slender and athletic mother walks up to me donned in an external frame backpack/child carrier with her small child on her back, and her senior citizen Jack Russell by her side. "Excuse me, can you help me for a second?"
"Sure."
"Can you get the plastic bowl out of my backpack for me for my dog?"
"This part here?"
"Yeah, thanks."
The child looks at me and smiles.
"I don't think that water fountain works though," I inform her looking at her dog.
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah, but I have some bottled water he can have."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm done."
"Oh that'd be wonderful."
She holds the little blue bowl as I pour in cool filtered water for the eleven year old Jack Russell Terrier still alive and kicking it strong.
For some reason, the pit in my stomach started to wear off slightly as I walked away and heard a "THANK YOU SO MUCH!" called out to me. I couldn't turn around, I was still crying. I just shouted back, "YOU'RE WELCOME!" and waved my hand in the air.
I don't have a stressful job or a stressful life. I've always sort of been a rock, but even rocks get cracks and crumble or erode away I suppose. It's good to have other rocks.
This is my day of self-reflection.
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