A few nights ago, while I was lying in the dark trying to fall asleep, blankets thrown off and the fan on full strength, a whirring, crunchy, large cockroach flew into the room and dive bombed my head. It was gross. I killed it with my sandal and buried it in my trash bin. Then a mosquito bit me, and when I smooshed it against the wall it left a blood mark. Ah, the joys of summer!
In actuality, this kamikaze cockroach got me thinking about my life, and I had a moment of profundity in which I realized that my life lately has been filled with "cockroaches of destruction." They come in the form of worrisome thoughts, fears and doubts that sneak into my head and dive bomb my sense of self, and my ability to put things in perspective. If only I had enough sandals to kill them all . . .
These cockroaches are nothing new- they have been around since I was a wee lass, clutching my stuffed dog in the back of the station wagon, anxiously asking my mother: "Mama, what are we going to do today? What is the PLAN?"
Of course, the big joke is there is no plan- there is a semblance of control most of us seek, and there is a big, scary, vast, beautiful unknown that is the true foundation of our short time here.
Then, as now, it would be in my best interest to stop asking what the plan is, eat a push-pop, and take a nap.
As it turns out, my 29th year of life seems to be providing ample breeding ground for these goddamn cockroaches. I went into a little corner grocery in the S Congress neighborhood of Austin the other day, and the nice 40-something lesbian owner behind the counter, upon hearing my age as we made small talk about my ID, said "I gotta tell you honey, I love being in my 40's. Your late twenties are HARD, but it gets better the older you get."
As I begin to poll women in my life who have a decade or two on me, the consensus seems to be that as you age like a fine cheese, you begin to relax into who you are, and hopefully become kinder to yourself as years go on. You are proud of your cheese plate, of your crackers, and who you have become.
All this aside, my new life in Austin continues to delight and surprise me. The other day it went from 90 degrees to 50 and raining, in a matter of hours. I realized how quickly I had acclimated to Texas weather when I said aloud, after looking outside at the rain, "well, I guess I won't ride my bike today."
From the reports of family and friends in Seattle in Portland, it sounds as if I chose a particularly nasty winter/spring to skip. Of course, I'm scared shitless for 30 plus days of 110 degree heat, but I think I have to buckle down with a cooler full of drinks and snacks, a inner tube for the river, and ride it out.
I shall keep you posted as the great saga continues to unfold, and I encourage you to destroy your own cockroach thoughts, and I will continue to do the same. May the sandal be with you.
