Starting From The Hip

I described a dark thought to a friend recently. It seemed to me that when one is in dire shape emotionally, there are nightmares at night and the tribulations of the waking world during the day. The only moment of peace for someone like that is the few seconds of transition from sleep to wakefulness and vice-versa. That has only been the case for me very rarely, and not too recently either. For others it's likely more severe.

There are the times when I cannot afford a leisurely and slow waking. I wake up to something that must be done instantly, and my mind is stuck in mud. I only wind up awake while en route to somewhere, or while in the middle of doing something. It's a strange way to get going, but it seems to have little effect on me in the long term. I'm not sorry that it happens as seldom as it does, but it seems to have little effect.

Just yesterday, I woke up to a text questioning whether I'd be free to go do something. What I wanted to do was sleep longer or spend about two hours slowly waking up with a shower, tea and a lot of online browsing. Instead, I had to decide in seconds whether I would go out in a matter of minutes. I decided that the best thing was to get dressed in a frantic hurry and head out the door, so that's what I did.

I had enough time to get dressed in yesterday's clothes, put in my contacts, gather my critical possessions along with a bottle of water and a visor, and go out with my hair in a dreadful state. The outdoor air had a tremendously invigorating feel to it, and conversation with a friend (and, critically, not a roommate) brought me up to speed. The activity (another try at helping to officiate a roller derby scrimmage) was fun, and I was glad I'd braved the world beyond my sheets to do it.