I am anxious. Started when two of the dogs decided to break out and go on a neighborhood terror run. I try to keep them indoors as long as possible but I was overrun this morning, well before sunrise, by their face-licking tactics as I lay attempting to sleep. Meaning, that I was severely tested by their distraction as I, reading the graffiti on the wall, tried to start the day with my ritual breath counting. A challenging chore when two adult labs and an obnoxious, neurotic terrier are engaging you in a dog pile, demanding breakfast.
Two of the three wear invisible fence collars and the third is fairly docile so I run her up the street to her home base after they have secured the perimeter of our place. But today they, the two, started barking and soon the echo from their bombast was moving further and further away. I decide to take the truck and drive past them on the way to neighbors house and manage to persuade one to follow as she normally does. The other one, and in her defense, an abused rescue dog, has a history of district of authority. She, fence collar or not, will go wherever the heck she pleases, and almost always to choose noise over tranquility. She will not allow anyone close once the canine hormones kick in.
I decide to head home and as I do I see her trotting down the drive as if it was a sunny summer day with steaks on the barbie. Satisfied, somewhat, I settle into the morning news.
More irritants. The POTUS is a total embarrassment, a vile, vulgar, self serving and corrupt liar, a habitual cheat and white-collar criminal. This for starters and putting it understatedly. This adds to my anxiousness.
I have another week with this detail, and as I discussed with two PBers last night, I am thinking of taking a mini-vacation when this assignment has been completed. So I open the flash sale ad from Alaska Airlines and see where they can take me, cheap, to find some relative warmth for a few days of R&R. I give up on San Diego, Las Vegas and Tucson as if seems that you can only buy one one-way ticket at a time. More frustration and more anxiousness.
In my notes I want to research a turntable that will convert vinyl to MP3 files. The good ones are 3-5 hundred and the cheap ones I refuse to consider. I check Crags List and find a decent one, still in box for 45 clams. But it is in Port Townsend a journey I do not want to make today. Dang.
The last thing I have on to-do list is to re-list the RV in the hopes of snagging someone wanting to trade for a van or small delivery truck that I could outfit for SAG duty on the eCOW trip. I say I will do that later and head back to the kitchen for more coffee. I am completely useless. My thinking is stinking. I am almost shaking with nervousness born from my inability to orchestrate a temporary truce on all this trivial trauma.
The dogs are not the culprits. Dogs bark, as the Arabs say, but the caravan moves on. I am a manifestation of my internal crisis.
This has helped. It always does. Simply putting my focus on the words that replace the mental consternation, guiding my fingers on the keyboard, as a gifted pianist might, quickly replaces the discordant cacophony of my emotional inflammation. Converting the anxiousness to relative calm.
A dog runs off barking at other dogs and I crumble in response?
Morning message and plan of attack?
This needs work.
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