Sea change. That’s the phrase I wanted for our Tuesday conversation, but was unable to conjure until yesterday evening, while I was driving back home in a vodka-infused haze. Not to worry, though. I kept it in the lane, with only 1.6 drinks down the gullet and, let’s be honest here, the fact that Vodka Redbulls are essentially speedballs certainly didn’t hurt matters at all. The other thing to note, as I once explained to somebody during happy hour, is that I’m normally so neurotic that a buzz merely serves to normalize me somewhat.
There were some dark moments yesterday evening, times when I was dangerously close to veering back to my old self. It all started well enough, until the vibe dropped for me and for a few brief instances I considered bailing. I could taste it, too–the freedom, the relief of disengaging. But then I excused myself, looked in the mirror, and said, “I’ve got to do this.” I was probably a few steps short of slapping myself in the face.
A ridiculous scene, to be sure, but when I was in the thick of it, it felt like I was at a crossroads of cosmic importance, a grand test of will. It was, in a way, because shortly after I mumbled that vow to myself, I made my choice, steeled myself, and finished the night in fine style. And sociability, once vestigial, suddenly became imperative.
Ask me again tomorrow night, right after the kick-off alumni association event, and I might give you a surly, misanthropic answer, but as of right now, I’m still on the sociability train. It’s been a moderately long stint–in humankind, I suppose–going on close to a year now, and as for how it’s managed to last this long, well, your guess is as good as mine.
It’s a difficult proposition, especially for me, to be more giving with my time and interpersonal bandwidth. Indeed, I can count at least two, three instances in the last week alone when I asked myself, “Why am I even doing this?” But I’ve been repeatedly steamrolling over these thoughts, in the interest of being a better person, and rather than question, I’ve just been doing. And, sure enough, it’s gotten easier. September will mark the anniversary of this shift in self, complete with a return trip to Indy, and all signs point to a continued commitment to people.
It’s almost like a mandate, you know? The last sermon I heard, in fact, was about the importance of relationships. Nothing too crazy, right? But when you consider the low frequency with which I attend church, the statistical probability of a timely message is all the more poignant. There have been concrete benefits, make no mistake. If I thought I was proficient in reading people before, for instance, it’s gotten that much easier to do so. Small talk has purpose now. And, on the whole, I’d say I have a more optimistic outlook. Not the saccharine, annoying brand of optimism, to be clear, so much as a moderate sense of hope, simmering right under the surface. That’s all you’re going to get, honestly.
You wouldn’t know it by just looking at this site, but we’ve upgraded to PHP 5.2, which is a big deal in the computing world because the prior 5.1 versions were clearly inferior. Clearly. Making the switch called for an intimate knowledge of the dark arts, with a bubbling cauldron, beak of crow, secrets of the Orient, and– And, in all honesty, all it took was a few clicks. I’m not entirely sure what changed, frankly. I’m plain folk, just like you, and as long as the words continue to show up on the teevee screen, I’m content.
I’ve been off-kilter lately. Irritable. Drained. Clumsy, too, when I knocked at least three items into the sink this morning while brushing my teeth. I’d like to be able to trace all this back to a single point of origin and explain it all away, citing this or that reason for why things are the way they are, and then assiduously try to avoid any future encounters with said reason. But something tells me there are no easy answers here. I’ve simply got to wait it out.
While I’m waiting it out, though, there are a few things I may as well try, like getting more sleep. I’ve heard it’s important or something? On a nostalgic whim, I walked into a McDonald’s on Monday, which didn’t help matters at all. (It was terrible, by the way.) You might suggest some fresh air for good measure, but with a weekend full of scattered thunderstorms and temperatures in the low 90s, conditions may not be optimal. Then again, the weather might be perfect for my mood.