Keep On Rolling On

Minneapolis.

Jetlag is a curious thing. It affects the brains ability to feel fully awake. It steals one's ability to sleep. It alters one's internal clock, to the point the one hour feels as good as the next. It steals one's car.

Wait. Steals one's car?

Perhaps I'm jumping the gun on that one, blaming Jetlag, and all his siblings^[1]. It was incompetence that stole my car actually. Apparently, the security at the contract parking ramp where I stored my car felt, for the security of the other ramp users, that it would be best to tow it away. After all, it had been there seven weeks, it must have been abandoned.

Even though it had my license plates clearly in the place that license plates should be. Said license plates, again easily readable, also were listed on the contract. This did not deter the them from thinking it was abandoned.

Granted, this sort of situation would usually make a person angry. They would be in their right to be so. I noticed, though, that I was able to take this in stride. Backpacking has a tendency to really reduce the concern that someone has about something going wrong. While backpacking, more often than not, you are relying on public transport, publicly controlled attractions, and government employees of all types. In less developed countries, with decaying or poorly built infrastructure, delays are an expected nuisance. One just has to get used to the idea that more likely than not, something will go wrong.

In Paris, for example, I was kicked off the Metro. No, I wasn't doing anything wrong, everyone was kicked off. There was a lot of rather embarrassed and concerned looking maintenance people scurrying around the platform, trying to figure out what was going wrong. I tried to take the other line at that station, only to be told (I think) that the whole station was being shutdown, and I should find a different way home. So, I just walked, no big deal. And this was Paris.

One just has to roll with the punches. It's good when one returns home because, for a while at least, this ability to roll is great. Nothing really gets the blood boiling. This tends to wear off in about a week^[2] or so, but it's nice while it lasts.

Err...So, What Happens Now?

Right, so, I do need to answer the question of what the hell am I going to do with the blog, give that I am going back to work. Well, the answer is pretty simple: I'll keep writing for a little while longer. How much longer is still up in the air.

Going back to work is certainly part of this whole experience. That transition back may provide something interesting to write about, or it may be as boring as watching any of the CSI spin-off/knock-off shows. I have been away from work for about five months now. I wonder if it's like a break up; perhaps I'll need a week recovery time for every month I was in it.

We shall see.

[1] Jetlag is a minor Greek god from the lesser-known family of second generation gods, the Annoyances, birthed parthenogenically via Eris. His siblings include Bloating, Irritability, Dry-Mouth, Pun, Film Criticism (originally know as Theatre Criticism - he recently had his name changed after a dispute with the Tony Award Committee), and, of course Incompetence.

Every one had always hoped that Incompetence would have killed himself in some sort of an accident with one of Zues' lightning bolts, but he was always too busy petting George, the lint in his belly button.

[2] Under less stressful environments, this can last indefinitely. As I do start work for another few days, and I'm not going back to G******ks (name hidden to protect the innocent), where high stress is considered "normal", I feel that I can keep this laid back attitude a little longer.