The Proverbial

There is a lot of upheaval going on in my general vicinity right now. Like, a lot. If someone were to ask me how my life was going, I would say roughly the following:

My life is like a pinwheel. It is full of bright and beautiful colors that quiver with unrealized motion. When I want my life to move forward, I merely give a gentle breath and set the colors in motion, dazzling the eyes.

Except, someone came along and decided that my pinwheel wasn't efficient enough. So while I wasn't looking, they replaced it with dun-colored electric fan. They glued the fan into the socket and then broke the off switch so it is permanently stuck on high. So my life just keeps moving forward, and without the colors, so it is a monotonous blur of forgotten moments.

And then there's a man, a very large man. Maybe he is a trucker. He's running a long run from the west coast to the east coast. He's behind schedule. He's cutting corners left and right, speeding on the highway when his cab radar says there aren't any cops around.

Last night that man stayed in a crappy motel. They didn't offer breakfast service. The town was a hole, so on the way out he got breakfast at Taco Bell. He was super hungry (he missed dinner the night before, because of the late run he drove far into the night and collapsed in his crappy motel before eating.) So he's starving and he eats about eight bean burritos for breakfast.

But then he's driving and he's still hungry and he needs gas. So he stops at a grimy trucking station. They have sandwiches on a table with the expiration dates ripped off. They are buy 1 get 2 free. He's low on cash and that seems like a great deal so he gets 3 egg salad sandwiches of questionable integrity.

He eats them all in a hurry and washes them down with a couple of cans of Red Bull. Then about an hour later he decides he's not feeling so great. In fact, his stomach is probably going to explode. So he pulls off the highway yet again.

He finds a meadow, and no one is around. The only thing in the meadow is a dun-colored electric fan that is stuck on high. The only clear place is directly behind it.

So he runs over and pops a squat. The mess gets everywhere.

That's about my life right now.

You?

Day in the Life

The lady across the street was outside. We liked her, even had an affectionate nickname we called her behind closed doors, dealing with the amount of tobacco she could ingest in one short sitting. Her dog is four years old, a terrifying looking beast that is sweeter than honey.

She - the dog - is best friends with our puppy. He used to be afraid of her, but now that they're the same size, he likes to run as hard as he can to make her chase him. She bites him on the ruff and leaves long tracks of drool. Great.

We don't say much to each other while our dogs visit. It's merely a companionable moment of time, filled with excited canines and banalities.

Her head turns to me, blonde hair dancing slightly in the breeze. "So," she asks, awkwardly. I feel a moment of alarm. This seems like the intro to a Big Question. No place for that in our banalities.

"What exactly do you do?"

I glance down to the pavement. I'm a little ashamed, to be honest. I'm not where I thought I'd be when I finished college 6 years ago - graduating a semester ahead of my incoming class. I spent three years in a foreign country, seeing the world and learning about myself. I grew up, but what do I do? It was a question that struck fear into my heart.

I cleared my throat, stalling. "I... deliver pizza." I said it, but it sounded hollow. She blinked at me, as if I were lying. Trust me, I thought, with a vocabulary like mine, I understand your confusion.

"Oh." Seriousness sloughed away. She was content with the answer. "Okay."

Tell her the truth, my conscious whispered. Tell her what you really do.

I shouldn't hide it. I should tell her. My conscious was correct - why was I afraid? Did I think she would judge me? What did I care? If I spent all that time across the ocean and couldn't even stand up for my beliefs, what had I really learned?

I cleared my throat again, meaningfully. My voice exploded from my mouth in ringing tones, surprising even myself.

"Wait," I boomed, her back was starting to show to me. I might lose my moment, the window where I could show I was not a coward. She looked back, a wary query in her eyes.

I squared my shoulders and took a deep breath. "Actually, I am an author."