We’re sitting in a gas station parking lot – we’re going to Iota’s… any second now. A lot of my Life is taken up by waiting, and by not using that time adequately. I sleep too much, watch too much television, listen to Heather practice guitar. But there’s the feeling that I still don’t get enough done.
I had something that MIGHT equate to a panic attack in high school once. Probably brought on by my college applications and money and signing my draft papers just as Desert Storm got rolling. Scary stuff.
Now I feel that weight on my chest again. Nothing crippling like that one time… and Heather’s described REAL panic from back when she worked at the Sun. But – this is weight. This morning, I was exhausted, and my eyes weren’t really too interested in opening, but the weight on my chest was suffocating, making my shoulders ache, making me feel futile and stupid and slow and scared.
Tomorrow night will be one of the “BIG NIGHTS” for the band – playing at Iota’s is a big deal. But there are all sorts of tension points, even just about that. I don’t know – gigs at this point should be routine things. We get a time, show up, set up, play the gig, get paid, go home. But there are so many conflicting egos and conflicting schedules, that even getting the whole band there on time is just a pain.
I’m glad I only wear boots. That my feet don’t feel weird about slipping into something for the weather. My hands are clumsy in their knit gloves (damn, I totally left my gloves AND our ice scraper back at the house) and I let my hair freeze over – but my feet are happy in their native leather environment… flaming.
Mara’s socks help too.
On top of it’s aesthetic qualities, the snow is a blessing for a couple of other reasons too. Like I said, I’ve felt like we just haven’t got enough done recently, and that’s been weighing on my shoulders almost like I’ve been trying to lift our snow-laden Saturn – there are applications and pleading and phone calls and records to keep and record.
On top of that, the MVA has recently decided to tell me that they’d revoked my registration back in 2001 and “oh, didn’t you know?” – and the insurance bill is coming around – and I’m working on Jayson Blair’s website (the deadline’s coming up, and I’ve been procrastinating, like ya do) and ON TOP OF EVERYTHING ELSE my Father’s Monday morning surgery has again been postponed.
So – the snow stops the world from spinning for a few days. We’re not getting our mail out, but that’s ok, cause we can’t get out to the post office – I’m not taking care of my car, but that’s okay, because we can’t get to the MVA – we’re not out selling CDs, but that’s okay, because we can’t make it out to the venues.
Thank God that Thursday is a clear night. The one reprieve of the week, and Iota’s will be open, and we’ll be able to get there, and all shall be good.
So it is spoken, so it shall be.
Traffic on the beltway is tense and tight. Too many people who’ve ALSO been caged are now racing to be ANYWHERE but HERE and NONE of them seem to have cleaneed the snow off the tops of their vehicular contrivances. It’s like the the approach to Alderan in A New Hope. Bumpy with unseen particles.
Let’s hope that I-95 and the OTHER Beltway are better.
But ignore all that for a moment. If I can just relax enough, clear away the condensation on the window, and look… the tress are beatiful, etched and outlined in outlandish shapes. Snow finishes the drooping shape to the ground and 18-wheelers pass us, lit up likc rocket powered Christmas trees. Heather drives and I just let the scenery roll by. It’s a beautiful night.
(listening to the Lowboys – a band we met down in Fredericksburg, VA.,)
