Woo-ee, what a ride. I can’t tell yet if the roller coaster has actually come back to the station, but it’s stopped the loop-di-loops. No more clackity-clackity as the car creeps up the vertical slope before plummeting straight down. I hate roller coasters—hate the barfing, hate the feeling of the car flipping off the track, hate the useless “safety” bar, hate the other people laughing and throwing their arms in the air. No, give me a nice ferris wheel any day.
I’m tired. Today I’m going to the Big City to do my favorite things: read magazines at Barnes & Noble, go to a coffee shop for a fine beverage and a turn with my journal, shop at Hobby Lobby for my Extravagance Of The Day—a new white gel pen, and sit meditation with my buddies. I might even go to the arboretum and luxuriate in all the flowers.
I need a break from all the seriousness and flop sweat-effort of the last couple of weeks. I need to laugh and look at pretty things, smell cut grass and listen to water fountains. Just getting in the truck and singing with the radio, driving through the countryside for an hour, will help charge my batteries. That’s all I’m asking, a little juice. Then, I will gladly hand over my ticket for the next ride.
If I have to.
Though, I’d much rather take a boat out onto a placid lake where the ripples have miles of water to spread out and fade away. The gentle sway of the boat. The touch of the breeze. The loons warbling in the distance.
Sorry, I drifted off there for a minute. At last.