‘Hit the gas, there ain’t no brakes on this lost highway’
I’m trying to lie low during this astrological clusterfuck known as this week’s lunar eclipse in Pisces and the solar eclipse in Virgo on Sept. 11. To say it’s been a challenging day for communication is an understatement, so I’ll focus on the positive: I left work during rush hour. For the first time. Ever.
Yesterday’s workload burned me out. It wasn’t even the work so much as the fact that it takes 37 people to screw in a goddamned light bulb. And the key component of the whole operation is about as dim as a burned-out filament.
Anyway, since yesterday’s shift ended just shy of 11 p.m., I thought 5 p.m. was a superb time to leave today — I know, MADNESS! And holy shit, the rush-hour TRAFFIC that’s clogging my fair city at that hour is unbelievable.
And you know what? I LOVED every second of it. Not the asshole Maryland drivers, of course, but the being in the car … during daylight hours … with the sunroof open … and with the music blasting. (Bon Jovi, natch.) I had time to go out and DO something. It was empowering. A half-hour barely moving on the highway sure beats, well, sitting in a chair for a half-hour and NOT MOVING.
This eclipse is favoring home matters right now — to get my affairs in order and pass up any extra projects that I would normally volunteer for that keep me away from it. I think it’s a glorious idea, but I get behind when I don’t take a day off — what happens when I do is nothing short of pandemonium!
Speaking of, I have work I meant to do tonight, but I’m also staring in the face of an early conference call tomorrow and another day chock-full of wrestling with my demons. But that glimpse of sunshine? That ever-elusive orb of wonder that I never get to see on a day that ends in “y”? Was inspiration enough to get up and do it all over again for another day … all in the hopes of getting another glimmer of a world outside the one in which I’m immersed.
“Oh patron saint of lonely souls
Tell this (girl) which way to go
Guide the car, you got the keys
Farewell to mediocrity
Kicking off the cruise-control
And turning up the radio
Got just enough religion
And a half tank of gas come on, let’s go.”— Bon Jovi, “Lost Highway”