I was just rushing to grab a closing door today when I realized, “Why am I in such a hurry?” I mean, what is it about the fact that a door is open and is *just about* to fall shut that terrifies us so?
OK, granted, the fear of getting one’s fingers caught is one thing, but the handsome stranger who was going through it saw me and waited with a smile for me to scamper toward said door. I had all the time in the world, yet it was like I was in a hurry to go nowhere.
Or, like my mom always says when you ask her where she’s going, “Nowhere, fast.”
It reminded me of a few nights ago — I was behind some moron in Old Town who was trying to make a left turn from a right-hand lane. I could have passed on the right, of course, but I would have hit an oddly placed medial strip. I didn’t bother, of course, because I knew I wasn’t exactly rushing. But there was something about that idiot consuming MY air and taking up MY space that put this insane rush of adrenaline in me and really annoyed me.
Anyway, why is it that some of us let our blood pressure skyrocket when — if you think about it — we’re not heading anywhere good or even anywhere we really even have any grand desire to go? Or, worse, somewhere we’ve already been?
My guess is that we’re trying to keep ourselves from running in the opposite direction. 😉