I brought work home with me last night. Oh, I don’t mean reports or emails or that kind of thing. No, I took “home” the frustration and anger of a bad day at work. I let it get to me.
That’s not why I’m up here.
Now, let me say this: I am one of the most competitive and proud people you will meet. Those two qualities – sins? issues? – drive me far more than I like to talk about. Oh, they make me good at pretty much anything I do…but that’s because I don’t actually, err, do anything I’m not good at. Or, at least, I don’t talk about it until I am good at it.
The upshot of all that is that I am not actually capable of giving anything less than my best effort…even in a job that I took solely as an excuse to spend 6 months “getting away from it all”.
But I very intentionally took a job that would end as soon as I clocked out. That would not demand more of my life, and my energy, than I was prepared to give. Shit, that’s why I left a very, very good job working for a publishing company!
I woke up this morning still pissed off. I woke up this morning needing, almost as badly as back when I first got up here, to get the fuck away from everything.
So I did.
I was out of bed by six…and had my pack on my back and was pushing onto the trail by seven. I hadn’t, when going to bed, known just what hike I was going to do today. But this morning that answer was easy: I did the hardest fucking one I could think of.
It was a perfect day. The sun…the temperature…not a single damned person in sight…and eighteen miles of sweat and work. Now, eighteen miles doesn’t seem like a lot, until you realize I was (a) using a trail no one has used yet this year and (b) was climbing to the top of a mountain the whole damned time.
My legs are killing me. My skin is killing me – and, no, forgetting mosquito spray was not a good idea! My brain, however, and my…well…soul, feel very much better. It’s absolutely amazing what is the healing power of a day in the sun. Of a day with nothing but trees and beauty that 99.9% of the visitors will never experience. Of a day just for me.
There actually is good news in the irritation and anger of yesterday: I am having no problem at all writing a couple of scenes for Silence today. At this point of the story, Connor is pissed off at just about everything (err, well, that’s not all that unusual for him, admittedly) and I can definitely sympathize…