Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Day 4.105 Simply needs to be

I am finding it hard to be original today.

This morning when the air-raid siren alarm went blaring at 0415, I did the same thing I do every pre-dawn Wednesday.

I get to my feet in the darkness, checking that my internal gyroscope is functioning properly and make my way to the bathroom taking sure-footed baby steps on the bamboo floor. I brush my teeth and gargle. I run the rotary electric shaver over my cheeks and chin. I gingerly navigate my way to the kitchen to boil water for coffee and drop one slice of potato bread into the toaster. As the water and bread heat I go back to the bedroom to dress. I like the efficiency of the morning multi-task. I look out the window and see the sound and stars. I know how the lighthouse feels.

After coffee and toast I take my anticoagulant and anti arrhythmia medication and head to the table to check the global news and any social media communications that cannot wait another minute. I look at the master calendar to see what chores await me later in the day and head out the door.

I am driving to the club. I am very dizzy. I have not slept. I feel like shit. I wonder if it is my heart or something else, something worse. For one nanosecond I see the number 90 bus coming at me in the other lane and wonder……

At the club, I try to add something to the community. To lead these fine folks in an hour long indoor cycling session to keep them healthy and fit. I think that I really should not be doing this, but it is the only thing that makes me feel somewhat 'normal'. IPA works too.

We get through the high-intensity set listening to Dire Straits, CCR and the Talking Heads. I keep a vigilant eye on my heart-rate monitor and make my focus the work itself, its technique and challenge. I make sure to drink often from my stainless steel bottle of citrus flavored electrolytes. I try to EQ the music but the ringing in my ears makes it more muddy than clear.

Afterwords in the shower I almost drop. The dizziness has returned and I put a hand on the tile wall to steady myself. I want to cry. Tears that have nothing to do with shampoo.

I dress slowly and leave after a few polite conversations with the staff.

I drive home and mix protein supplement with almond milk and drink in one gulp.

I go to lay down wishing for nothing more than a twenty minute reprieve from this unknown and frustrating abnormality.

Maybe scrambled eggs will help, I consider, after my futile attempt at sleep.

Maybe today doesn't need to be original.

Maybe it needs simply to be.

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