Waiting Room + Notebook

Sitting in a waiting room and the jaunty radio is telling me not to stop thinking about tomorrow.  Oh, I won't.  The lukewarm green tea in my travel mug is causing me to buzz, a caffeine pressure in my chest, creating a slight fierceness in this pen-to-paper business. 

You might think I have a plan, writing and all, but I don't.  I'm just writing to write.  Just talking, talking to myself about nothing.  Sometimes that's the best thing, kind of like stepping out for a stroll and wandering nowhere in particular.  This is rambling.

(Maroon 5, you're so boppy with your club beats and caramel voice.  Let's all have a dance party.)

Keeping busy is wonderful, I think, if it's done correctly.  Like sharpening the saw.  If you take a break from your work and spend the day being lazy, it's like putting the saw down.  When you pick it up again, it isn't any sharper.  But say instead of having a lazy day vacation, you had a day spent in good conversation, reading something inspiring, honing your craft, contemplating and ramble-writing, then you sharpen the saw so when you go back to work you're all motivated and pumped up.  And I'm talking real work, not the work that you do because you have to.  The work that matters to you. 

TLC, it's been a while, and yes it is stupid to chase waterfalls.  You'll probably just drown under the pressure of it all.  (Emo?)

I can't help but feel like the media is trying to make us all feel placated, like everything is all right, calm down, sit back and smile.  I have nothing against chilling out and smiling but it just seems so damn creepy sometimes, like brainwashing.  Like lying low when everything isn't all right.  The house is on fire and the fire fighters tell you to crawl back into bed, just go back to sleep - they'll take care of it.  Really.  Just go to sleep.  And then it turns out their water hoses are really filled with gasoline and the housefire grows and spreads to the neighboring houses.  People are alarmed but, "we've got it all taken care of, really, just sleep."

Phil Collins is trying to boost me up, talking about some higher love.  There's a brief temptation to begin a cheesy dance sequence in the middle of the waiting room, but of course I don't.  Sometimes I wish I was the kind of person who could do such a thing sans inhibitions, but of course my self-control is precious to me and keeps me from getting into trouble - better to keep it. 

Snow falls, white static.  Spin the dial spin the static in the air.  In a waiting room, yes, but it's been a nice November so far.  Winter's rolling in and I'm looking up.  The house may be on fire but at least I ain't asleep.

Allysia