Last weekend I braved a terrible storm to see Avenue Q in Rochester. What a total pleasure - I was singing Everyone's a Little Bit Racist and If You Were Gay all week. This past weekend I went back for a Levi Kreis concert. Pure heaven. Side note: they handed out glow sticks at the concert, and we all pretty much wore them around our necks. Mine glowed deep lavender, and on the way out of the concert, I decided it should be a halo, so I put it on my head and decided to wear it like that for the drive home. As I made my way to the thruway entrance, I saw almost a dozen policemen stopping every car. You got it: sobriety check.
Lately I've been noticing that I'm rushing all the time. I'm hurrying to get somewhere, I'm hoping every day passes quickly so the weekend will get here, I'm dreaming about having a vacation, or even a three-day weekend, to catch a breather. I'm worrying about retirement savings, I'm wondering if I'll find a partner, I'm thinking about when I'll get to see my nephew again. Work is fun but unbelievably busy, and I'm hoping it will slow down sometime in early fall. I hate it when I catch myself doing this - wishing time away. If the journey is the destination, and I believe it is, I have a problem.
I guess I have some processing to do. Where's my halo?