Sticky business

On my way home from work yesterday, I tried to go to the gym. As I got into my car, this deep-rooted anger came over me. I just wanted to fucking walk. I did not want to get into my vehicle. I did NOT want to drive. I did not want to pass go. Eff the $200 -- I just wanted to fucking walk and enjoy the breezy, beautiful day. I wanted to walk and get things done, like running to the drug store and window-shopping, but alas, that is not my life, so I trudged to the gym to start 20 minutes of anger-ridden, HATE-lifting while surrounded by the most SNARKY crowd of people I have ever seen. And while my gym is high-fallutin' and all, its also got a nice "Bad-news-bears" thing happening, so its never too pretty. Last night was an exception. And of course, it couldn't have hit at a worse time.

For some reason unbeknown to me, I started to feel stressed out in a way I haven't felt in eons. I felt tense and pissed and a million other foul emotions after leaving the snarks behind. I decided I should just head home and walk in the 'hood, get some errands done, etc. As I started my departure from my gym at a time of night that should be lighter, traffic-wise, I turned as I do into the cluster-fuck of the century. And I sat. And sat. And sat. I started to sweat. My heart was pounding, my fists were tense and I started CRYING. Yes, I started crying like a big freaking baby. R called at this point and I freaked out. I don't know why but I was beyond just "fuck, I'm stuck in traffic," but was more like, "FUCK, I am just STUCK" (poetry, right??)

I moved at a snails pace as I ranted to R about my hate at that moment for all this bullshit traffic and how I could (and have) walked faster than this turtle paced bullshit.

After getting off the tel, I turned down a side-street after seeing ahead that there was more crazy, squished up traffic. As I turned, there was a moment of freedom. I was free. I was able to "drive" -- until I turned back onto a connecting street that was stopped up like a constipated persons stool. And the tears started again.

As I got home almost an hour and 20 minutes later, I was beaten down, pissed off and drained. I managed to get ONE errand done of foot in my neighborhood. I talked to a few friends and specifically felt better when two of them who get the whole "demographics," lack of transportation choices, etc., thing and felt WAY better.

As the night wore on, I finally calmed down, popped open a beer and had a moment of clarity: I HATE being stuck. I hate being stuck with my shoe in gum, I hate having a heel stuck in a grating, I hate being stuck in traffic and I HATE being stuck in life. I need freedom and freeflow. I love being able to control my time and how its being wasted or NOT wasted.

I HATE being stuck.