Do you ever have those moments where you hear yourself being awful, just absolutely awful, and yet you just keep on going? I’ve had a lot of those in the past two days. Not only do I hear the words coming out of my mouth, pouring like sharp gravel, but I feel my body tensing up, as though I too am turning hard.
It’s exhaustion. It’s packing. It’s the summer heat and the withering plants and the to-do list that never ends up to-done. But somewhere between my logical analysis and my nasty outpourings there’s a gap. Something missing. Like a pause button. Or a mute button. Or even a rewind, so that I could, in that instant after I say or do whatever I immediately regret, just go back.
In that case, I’d rewind all the way back to the weekend, hit pause, take a nice long nap and make the most comprehensive to-do list ever, get them all done in fast forward, and then hit play. And really play. All week long. Yes, well, maybe that’s what makes a vacation so appealing, if you just managed to survive getting there.