As I get older, about to celebrate my 48th Christmas Eve, followed shortly by my 49th birthday – I think about how I have become more and more a creature of reactions. I see those chemical angsts, those rages or relaxations coming over me and I abandon myself to them more easily. My personality seems ever more inevitable, reflexive answers to questions and problems posed a hundred times before. I worry that I steadfastly fail to get wiser, I just get more entrenched in all my responses. I seem unable to force the issue.
I’ve felt dangerously out-of-control in a couple of instances recently. That depth of experience means I also know what the results of those reflexes are. I’ve learned from all those hundred times, but it doesn’t seem like I can change the response. I see it all ahead of me, it plays out exactly as it does in my head, and I know where the road goes. I just follow. I feel more and more detached, literally just going through the motions.
It’s terrifying and relaxing at the same time. Wouldn’t it be nice just to fade into fate and let the chips fall exactly where I know they’re headed?
Merry Christmas indeed. My brain looks back at old decisions or creations and simply doesn’t understand how it used to work. I’m worried my wonder’s wandered, all the while, powerless to keep the words from tumbling out of my mouth, absolutely knowing how that goes.
In the past week I’ve spent a lot of time on diagnostics. Not self-diagnostics. Computer diagnostics. Fighting a Blue Screen of Death issue that I’ve been dancing around for far too long. Much like my own health, I’ve got a fair amount of Knowing What the Problem Is, so if it hurts don’t do it! Rather than taking corrective action, or perhaps even more importantly, objective notes for better diagnosis, I slowly feel around the edges and, in this case, avoid stressing my graphics card.
And, true to form, rather than wait and figure out an issue (now determined to PROBABLY be a dying power supply, I’m waiting for a new one) I rush through myriad solves that are now going to cause me a fair amount of angst, files scattered and patchy by a Windows reinstall, drives disconnected and reconnected, remote drives patched and self-duplicating.
Good thing I wasn’t under any time crunch.
But that’s my “solve” over and over again, right? Dive in and get in motion, damn the consequences – because tomorrow we die? No, simply because it’s easier than waiting.
Next week after Morsbergers, new power supply in hand, I’ll rip everything apart, and perhaps I’ll have the patience to put it all together right, but chances are I won’t. And knowing the chances, I SHOULD be able to control it, I should be able to head off that stupid repetition of robism…
But probably I won’t. It feels like I can’t.