Angst

Ha!  Last week’s post was “Love is Patient” … which has translated suddenly into angst in the air this week.  Why?  I don’t know.  But – hmpf! -- I don’t like it.  And my drama free zone is being threatened. 

Get thee behind me Satan and all that.

For some I think the angst ties to the start of school … and the end of summer in sight.  When I look around there are lots of beginnings and endings, though.  All the classic life events that cause stress … I’m not sure I have more than a couple degrees of separation from any of them. 

Hmmm.  Ugh.

I like to think of myself as a drama squasher.  My job has been, um, interesting the last few days.  Challenging!  There’s the word!

Just when I’d like to unload some of my own angst I find myself with surprisingly little opportunity to do so.  Weird.  What is up with that?  Like any woman, I do sometimes need to vent off all the bad stuff so the good stuff is left behind.  Don’t worry, though, between my conversations with the big guy and verbally throwing up on the computer screen … I’ll be just fine.

What was that thing about patience again???

As an added bonus to my life, when I got on the treadmill the other day … and I thought I was fine … and I thought I would do more running than walking … oops, think again.  Hey, I thought the ragweed wasn’t that high yet!  I pushed it a little, but let’s just say my breathing wasn’t anywhere close to right until the next day.  I wasn’t exactly the picture of patience and lack-of-angst.

The distractions are numerous right now.  A friend described this syndrome last night as – and you have to stand up, clasp your hands together in an appropriate opera-like stance, and sing – “Me, me, me, me, me.”  Actually someone else said much the same thing the other day.  It’s a theme!  We’re all wrapped up in our own worlds.  (Pleading the fifth …)  Understandable … I mean, it’s our world.  Life usually improves when we spend less time inside our heads and more time outside, though.  I wonder what that appropriate ratio is …

So anyway, I finally took my own advice … crank up the Switchfoot and drink another Neuro.  And here I sit, adequately caffeinated and awash in my peevish-existential-mood Jesus music.  (Am I allowed to say all those words in one sentence?)  I also added a grande dark roast to the mix. 

I want out of this machine, it doesn’t feel like freedom …