Saturday, August 13, 2011
Bringing it Home
This is evidenced by the wide array of adrenaline-laced hobbies we have, from working out like crazy, marathon running, re-enactment battles using medieval weaponry, rock-climbing, sky-diving, pole-dancing, motorcycle racing, going out drinking just to toe the line between having a good time and ending up in the drunk tank at work.
As for me, I like to go running- I can go as fast or slow as I want, depending on my patience. There is the perception of cardiovascular health benefits and an afterglow that I like to bask in after a long run that nothing else really compares to. I also play music- all kinds of music, whether it be celtic fiddle, or 50's oldies, or classical, or top 40, or eclectic pop, alternative, heavy metal, I will like it if it's good, if it was thought out... I like music with intention. Sometimes I draw or make paper animals or eat. Never mind sometimes- I always come home to eat and it does make me feel better/sleepy.
Nevertheless, I still get dreams or nights where I lie awake wondering what happened to Mr. So-and-so or Little Mrs. Itty-bitty. Those are the nights that my coping mechanisms fail and I am at the full mercy of my very active imagination and pervasive little pessimistic streak. Usually, my optimism shines brightly through and through, but in the small hours of the night, that's when fairytale monsters freely reign over a mostly sleeping world.