Last Monday at 8:05 PM,
Dixie and I left work to head home. We had a long day and wanted to teleport home. Our usual form of entertainment/winding down ranged from blasting music to thinking silly epiphenomenal things. Our party fills with lawless chuckles, tears, and a bunch of "aha" moments that could very well solve world problems. Time would pass by swiftly, and I would feel I got home quickly. And then I would open the door, and my memory faded to black. The next morning, I woke up panicked and hazed. I would do a quick walk of shame to the kitchen and pick up the trail of clothes, bag(s) of chips, and seltzer cans. I would turn on to brew what happened last night's coffee and restart the day. But, not today!
The second light changed from yellow to red, and I ended up slamming my brakes. Dixie squealed at me.
Ohh, look, Dixie, on the rearview mirror! I saved myself from an extra 10 minutes of my life and avoided getting a ticket. There was a Cop car behind us the whole time!
For the next 22-seconds, I guess I will contemplate what to do with my life.
In the winter night, arctic wolves howled at the buildings, trash bins and chased after the brave few who decided to go for a night run. Roads felt dark and lonely. Shards of ice fell from tall buildings on the sidewalk. The dual nature of warmth in the car and outside noises felt uncomfortable. I could see myself driving on this road, over and over again. Ten seconds left.
The last jolt of untapped energy of the night sparked that "aha" moment. I didn't give Dixie a chance to speak and said,
Dixie, You and I are going to enjoy every second of this ride, heading home. There is nothing you can say, and I am going to go left.
I counted down the last seconds and held on to the feeling of being different. Time felt slow as my heart brimmed with confidence to go wherever the night takes me.
I am the passenger in this vehicle and the driver of this car!
