let’s play a game called déjá vu
I took off this evening. I wasn’t working at Bollo’s to take off. I wasn’t specifically working on assignments to take off, although I may classify it somewhat as such. But I took off my life. I took off the indescribably frantic, voluntary workhorse mindset. And I took off.
Once I returned from the gym, I sat around in the apartment debating the whole issue. And by debating, I mean to say that I took my shoes off and put them on. A lot. I was simultaneously unpacking and packing my bag to go relax somewhere. And I thought about dinner. What to do.
Though I am not building another Great Wall, I have the inner driving momentum to do so. It’s not a mechanical mindset, but near one. So, tonight, I decided to get away. I put my shoes on, grabbed my bag with camera and current book, and left. (making sure I had my keys with me this time).
I ended up at Gillie’s, not entirely by random. I really wanted a good meatless burger. The “Gillie’s Burger”, properly titled, is wundervoll. While I waited, the local bluegrass musicians were nearing their steady stride for the night. Gillie’s lets any local people come in Tuesday nights and play whatever they want; at this point, the crowd of players is a score large with more coming in after the customers leave. Dancing ensues. Fun, fun dancing. After my burger, and also after wasting precious Gillie’s employees’ time with chatter, I left for Bollo’s to talk to those people. Once that objective was complete, I was ready to walk back to my place. I wasn’t enraptured with a passion for living, but I was breathing through my nose and my heart beat steadily. That matters. A lot.
On the walk back, a car slowed down beside me on Main Street, a small, 5-seater Subaru (seating five), and guy in the back seat asked me what time it was. My workhorse mind went into action. In one second, I remembered the face of Meg when she asked me what time it was at 9:47, recalled Michelle sitting on the stairs outside when she asked me the same thing (9:51). After that flash (I was probably blankly staring into the guy’s face during that second), I said, “just about ten o’clock”. The car was still moving, it hadn’t stopped for the question; the guy said ok, looked up and ahead, and shook his head approvingly. Then he said thanks and the Subaru kept rolling.
I didn’t stop walking during the ordeal, but a moment after they drove off I looked up and a few feet ahead of me.
It was a bank sign, complete with clock/temperature reader.
It flashed 10:00.
Zehn Uhr. Guten Abend.