A non-commute

Tammy-less, day 3. Supplies are low. Now eat meals compiled from a single main dish … no … time … for side dishes. Ugh. Martini olive rationing has set in.

Having my wife out of town is starting to wear on me. By the time she gets in tomorrow I'll simply be sitting in a corner trying to mediate a conversation my elbows are having on the effects of hand cream on nuclear proliferation (Left, oddly enough favors a strong offense and would like to see deficit spending increased 40% to create missiles powered by Pop Rock candy). When I woke up this morning the room didn't feel right. It was misshapen, and my vision was blurred. I was seeing doubles, 2 beds, and 2 sinks. The furniture no longer looked familiar to me. Not having Tammy around is making me bonkers, well that, or the fact that I stayed in a hotel room in Redmond last night to take a break from the commute.

This reduced my drive to a whopping 7 minutes this morning. It was a nice break. My car barely got up to temperature by the time I pulled into the garage. The experience has me thinking though. The distance between where we live and where we work is more than just a physical space. I slept late yesterday morning and toddled into to work about 9:30. I got a good day's work in then met some friends for dinner at P.F. Chang's in Bellevue Square. Afterward we saw Alice in Wonderland. It was my first time at P.F. Chang's. The food was ok though I have to say I'm not sure what everybody raves about. The movie was a lot of fun but the 3D thing doesn't really flip my lid. The real joy was spending a night out with the guys. One of the few things I miss about living closer to town are nights like that.

I didn't sleep great, ok, but not great. The bed was a little goofy and a bedroom always seems hallow without Tammy in it. Don't get me wrong though, it was a nice room. The internet access was complimentary, something you rarely see these days, the staff was friendly and the hotel was clean. I got in today about 8:00. As I walked into the building, even with the seemly relaxed schedule, I still felt weary. I shouldn't have, but I did.

I'm not sure how or if you experience this, but my brain makes very noticeable changes into different modes. When I'm working, my brain 'clicks' into that mode. I have a mode for home, yet another for vacation, for church, etc. I'm the kind who tends to focus on one major thing at a time so I guess this pattern fits me. I rely on changes in my environment to shift my brain into the next mode. The older I get the more I realize that life is a marathon not a sprint and the more deliberate I am about altering my environment to make the division between modes more pronounced. For instance, when I'm done working for the day I close my work email and do my best to keep it closed until it's time to get back into work mode. Not blurring the line between modes keeps my brain fresh and helps me keep a sustainable pace.

So, as I made the short drive into the office today it was the first time I realized how big an impact being a "country mouse" is having on me. The difference in pace is noticeable and it seems I've incorporated that change into my survival skills. The pace of where I live might actually be working its way into who I am and that surprises me.

I guess I've gone native. I probably won't take up hunting and gathering vegetables still means a trip to Albertsons but apparently the experience runs deeper than that. Go figure.

Don't drive angry! Drive weird!

No way out

Tammy is off to Atlanta for meetings this week. It's like sending a leg or my sense of balance off for several days. The feeling reminds me of my in-law's dog Baxter. At one point he had something go wrong with him, stroke is their best guess. Now he twirls everywhere he goes. He's a sweet little guy but when you call to him you can't help be a little sad watching him spin his way to you. I'll be that way all week, sort of teetering like a comically oversized 18 month old with tech skills in search of comfort food.

You can put on your favorite music and rock out. For some, talk radio gets it done. Some still (headsets please) take the time to call their mom. For me, audio books help me to ignore traffic jams. I'm currently listening to Out of the Silent Planet by C.S. Lewis. Still though, even with the most effective distraction sitting in traffic is frustrating. It's that sense of freedom just beyond my reach.

I know when I first got a car that freedom made me want to hop around like Rocky at the top of the stairs. It must be in some small way the feeling that a bird gets when it flies. Who knows, but I like the image it puts in my head and I'm certainly not the first to use it. When I get slowed to walking pace it feels like falling back to the earth. Every time it happens I can't help but think about the cause ahead. At the very least it's going to be a bunch of people who don't know how to merge and at most it will be a serious accident caused by some who was behaving like a schmuck. The slower the crawl the longer I have to get ready to shake my fist at them. Oh boy, if it turns out to just be a bad merge I nearly blow a gasket because there's no one to rail at.

By the time I get home I'm so angry I could spit nails. Tammy has various solutions to calm me down. She shows me the Daily Puppy, waves red meat at me and if all else fails she head butts me in the ribs.

I get this way about what goes on in politics too. I see our representatives enacting laws for no reason I can see other than it gives them a claim to fame for the next election. No one solves problems anymore; they just nurse them along to justify the need for a support system. My work is much the same, just a never ending series of meaningless tasks on the horizon. No end in sight, no hope for release, no ability to make a run for freedom.

It's starting to feel like I'm going to be stuck in traffic until I take the dirt nap.

I'm bothered by this immensely.

I inhabit this space.

Tammy and I have talked about it a lot lately. Saturday we were having one of our permutations on this conversation. Sunday morning we scooted into church on the verge of being late. Sometimes God's presence is so full in that building that it changes the way the light moves in the room. Sunday was one of those days and Dan spoke right into the heart of this issue for me. The short version is that Dan reminded me that I need to remember to separate the person from their actions. It's such a simple concept and for me one of the hardest things to put into practice. Hate the sin, love the sinner. It's surely how I want to be treated.

Now I just got to figure out how this looks when traffic is merging. Maybe I could shake my fist at them but be holding a sign that says "big merge hugs!" Mostly I guess I better learn to stop taking it personally and find solace in the fact that the person behind that wheel is just that, a person. They might be someone who is also having a long day, a stressful job, weighty obligations hanging over their head, and perhaps not the support system at home that I do. That sounds like a good start at least.

Hey, a bumper stick that says "Hate the merge, love the merger!"

Don't drive angry! Drive weird!