Not a rage in sight…unfortunately.

I wish I could say I was doing something that was so stimulating I had no time to sit here and write. But I don’t.

I spend the littlest time possible getting ready in the morning to get in my car and drive to work for half a day. I do errands if I have them. Then I come home. If I’m lucky, I’m able to sit down and write something, but most often now, whatever I write is less than meaningful. It just reminds me that I am not finding the time I used to have.

Like now.

I’m supposed to be getting ready for work. The only reason I’m sitting here is because I didn’t get up at 5:10 to walk. I don’t have to drive semi-comatose and less than thrilled about having to go to class teenagers to school today.

What I can say about this strange life I’ve been leading for the past few months is that it’s very mechanized, and I’ve thought much about people who have led this type of life for years.

I would have dropped out of the human race long ago if I’d had to do this for any length of time. It’s monotonous.

My brain can’t engage when I don’t have extended periods of time to do things that require thought. I’m able to just get started, to begin to think, to warm up, and my eyes flit to the clock on my monitor reminding me that I need to get dressed. I need to put make up on. Comb my hair.

Get in my car.

I don’t want to.

I don’t feel like it. But I will. And I will see pleasant people today who will smile and say hello. I’ll do my work, take care of my errands, and come home.

I’ll take care of a few things that can’t wait any longer, and then the evening is here.

I have no clue what’s going on in the world because my short time in the car allows me the barest dose of NPR and its incessant diatribe of Iraq.

I did get to watch Gordon Ramsay last night on Hell’s Kitchen though. I need to rage against something like him.

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Range, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas

I’d say that just about sums things up. Like I said. I need to rage about something.

Anything.

Comments

15 responses to “Not a rage in sight…unfortunately.”

  1. I could not lead a so monotone life either. I sometimes look at the long lines of cars with an “executive” inside going to their cubicles somewhere in a big building and that gives me the willies. And it is good to rage about something every once in a while, but I think it is better when you don’t have to. Just stop and smell the flowers ๐Ÿ˜€

  2. kelly….

    there is nothing more I would want to do than to be able to stay home and really LIVE on my terms, and my clocks, not the way society expects me to do.

    The routine is so very murderous to creative souls and spirits.

  3. Melissa

    Amen.. whenever I am doing something because someone else
    thinks or expects me to..I get sooooooo frustrated.. I am not true to
    myself and it makes me want to explode..Here’s a poem for that!!
    (I am screamer and thrower)
    SCREAMIN’ MILLIE by Shel Silverstein from
    Falling Up

    Millie McDeevit screamed a scream
    So loud it made her eyebrows steam.
    She screamed so loud her jawbone broke,
    Her tongue caught fire, her nostrils smoked,
    Her eyeballs boiled and then popped out,
    Her ears flew north, her nose went south,
    Her teeth flew out, her voice was wrecked,
    Her head went sailing off her neck–
    Over the hillside, ‘cross the stream,
    Into the skies it chased the scream.
    And that’s what happened to Millie McDeevit
    (At least I hope all you screamers believe it).

  4. I. Feel. You.

  5. You know, Ben, I’ve never worked in a cubicle that is physical. I believe that the one I’ve always been worried about is the figurative one, its four walls created by pressures both externally and self-imposed. I am beyond shocked that at this point, without my former career, I find myself feeling as if there is no time.

    meleah, I know you understand. In fact, I believe that’s how I came to know you. You were talking about having time to write and how difficult it is when there are so many other things to be taken care of. And there are lots of aspects of life in general that are murderous to creativity. It sucks.

    Melissa, I love Shel Silverstein and forgotten about this poem. It is so appropriate — going “out” or in this case, “off” in style. I suppress my urges to throw things. Unfortunately.

    Hey Chick. Yes, I’ll bet you do. I’ll bet you definitely do. *sigh*

  6. What can I say? All the self imposed “have to’s” in our lives. But what would it be like without the people in our lives that keep us centered and balanced? Balance is everything. So THEY say.

  7. Melissa

    Oh, I meant to mention that the pent up rage is unhealthy..Studies
    show that it is why men die earlier than women… Gordan must
    have unbelievable blood pressure after shooting, even if it is an act.
    It is best to let it out in small amounts and then cut it out, than to
    hold it in to fester and damage you inside and out..(It could be a
    bout of depression..) Try to make a small list of blessings or
    gratitudes daily when your “not feeling”..I hope your spirits are lifted.

  8. Melissa

    lindor chocolate truffles help take the edge off sometimes.

  9. Monotone life, no that would not do.
    I understand the feeling, though.

    I too wish I had more time to write. I’ve taken to posting posts with no comments because I don’t have time to respond.

    This too shall pass.

    ๐Ÿ˜‰

    To be able to think and breath and live outside of it all, to read, write, or paint and draw – whatever is so necessary. How some get to through life without it is beyond me.

    Think of those who have never had the opportunity of that kind of time and space? Those who work round the clock at a job not endearing?

    That you are not perpetually one of them should make you smile, and the rage will dissipate.

  10. Melissa, I do know that about rage which is why I figured out long ago how sort through what matters and what doesn’t. As far as blessings go, I count them routinely. When I’m feeling blah, I count my lucky stars and get over myself. As far as chocolate goes, I indulge regularly. There’s a little basket at work with chocolate in it….Mmmmm…Two pieces a day!

    Cooper, how right you are about having those opportunities. So many people never have, and when given the chance, often they’re inhibited by what others might think. Regardless, my issue is more about not being able to do what I want when I want. If I write it here, somehow it makes things less frustrating. I certainly have it better than most when it comes down to whimsey. I’m not complaining. I’m just blah. An opportunity to rage about something would be quite nice.

  11. And there are lots of aspects of life in general that are murderous to creativity. It sucks.

    very true. and yes it does suck.

  12. Melissa

    i need a recommendation for a chardonnay.. oaked, lightly oaked,
    or nonoaked… brand names please…I know you are an expert…

  13. Hey Melissa, I am so not an expert. I just consume! I do try lots of different labels, tho, so for what it’s worth, it also depends on how much you want to spend. And prices here are less than elsewhere in the country. So Clos du Bois is always nice — it’s dry. Kenwood and Hess are good, and Acacia is amazing for around 16-20 bucks a bottle. Farther down the price range but labels I enjoy are BV Coastal Estates and DeLoach (which can be hard to find). Chateau St. John is lovely for a not so bad price. I tried Sanford recently and really enjoyed it. Is your head spinning yet? ๐Ÿ˜‰

  14. Melissa

    Yes! I’m in the South… something like 15 and under for regular
    consuming…

  15. ” I need to rage about something. Anything.”

    Funny. just the other day I wrote a post called ‘wherein I am a crazy person’…just because I needed to write something. Anything.

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