Lightning Crashes

Something happened this week. Nothing extraordinary, but have you ever had those moments when something clicked, and it was from that moment that things suddenly started to make a bit more sense.

I'll admit. The last two years have been incredibly difficult for me. The emotional rollercoaster that was my last relationship, a thrill ride that ended last May. But like dumbasses, we continued to live with one another. And then there was the job offer that would bring me to Memphis. And it was also something that brought out the worst in us. Then there was the move to Memphis. While it was something that I wanted, it was a big move for me. The job was a promotion into unchartered territory for me. Managing newbie employees under everyone's watchful eyes, and honestly wondering if I was up for the challenge. Frankly, the stress has reached an all-time high, and my self-esteem has taken a terrible nosedive.

This week, I've been out of town all week in Nashville for a division-wide supervisor's conference. Lots of pep talk. Lots of work talk. Lots of seeing co-workers I see a few times a year and lots of hearing "How's Memphis." For me, lots of being "on."

One night while I was there, I had one of the most vivid dreams. In the dream, I was following a group of about six people, around the edge of a lake at some sort of camp or resort. Behind us, I could see the lights of the cabins. The sky through the trees was a dark purple, and the air smelled as though a storm was about to roll over the lake. The thunder was rumbling more frequently, and we see the occasional flash of lightning behind a cloud.

I don't remember who was in the group, except T-man and the girl in the gauzy floral skirt and cute flip-flops. We were half-running, half-speedwalking through the woods around the edge of the lake away from the cabins.

T-man was leading the group and was just a few steps ahead of me. While he was leading, he was extremely hesitant, fretting about how close the lightning was and how we were surely going to be struck.

In the dream, I remember thinking how foolish that was. Sure, people get struck by lightning, but what are the chances that we would be hit?

About that time, a bolt of lightning landed squarely in my back. I was thrown forward, and landed face down in pine needles. After making sure I wasn't dead, I noticed the most excruciating pain, and spewed forth a stream of cuss words in bizarre combinations.

"CUNTSHITMOTHERHELLGODDAMNTOALLTOMOTHERCOCKSUCKINGSHITJESUSCHRIST! OHMYGODTHATFUCKINGHURTS!"

The rest of my party kept their distance. I think, mostly, because of the cussing.

The next part of the dream is a little fuzzy, but it seems like I was at a picnic table in a large hall. Perhaps the main lodge at the camp. The ceilings were high and the sheetrock walls were yellow. People were sitting around me, asking about being struck by lightning. And while I heard their questions, I still wasn't quite ready to answer because I was focused on the tingling. And I knew I just had to try something.

I pointed my hands out in front of me, like a goober, and concentrated, and moved the salt shaker across the table.

"Sweet," I think. I pointed across the room and moved a glass of water across someone else's table. I began to think of what my superhero name should be, even though all I could do is move a table setting to the person sitting next to you.

To develop my skills, I stepped into the hallway and pointed my hands at the overhead lights. The bulb slowly dimmed, flashed and went out. The girl in the floral skirt gasped and jumped up and down.

And then the wake-up call woke me up.

I've felt different since then. More energized and empowered. So maybe I had a sub-conscious turning point. However, there are still a few details to be clarified. LIke why was T-man there. Where were we going? And what made the girl's flops so cute?

At any rate, I hope this feeling lasts.

In other news...
The move to the new apartment is tomorrow. Hotass can attest how panicky a move makes me. Back in Nashville, he and I moved three times, and each time the anxiety attacks came more and more frequently. Since then, I've noticed that my best defense against moving is denial and avoidance. Anyway, TimeWarner has told me that they won't transfer my cable and Internet service until next Friday. This move is more stressful than it should be.

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According to Blogger, this is my 100th post. I can't think of any activity but one that I've done at least 100 times. And I contributed to this spinoff - memphisgaggle.blogspot.com.

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Last but not least, I want to tell you folks that drop by on a regular basis how much I appreciate you. Thanks for thinking my life is interesting enough to read about.