Peace of Mind in General

Frank FM 106.5 was playing back to back, uninterrupted Boston on my way back from breakfast this morning. Hollyann to Something About You to Rock and Roll Band to Peace of Mind as I turned into my neighborhood.
I had the windows down and the volume cranked all the way home.

This has not been a great year.

And what I am doing right now is avoiding doing the schoolwork that is all due by midnight. Premise Pitch. Outline. The ubiquitous “toolbox” entries that seem so amorphous and so part of this degree program. It looks like I am also on the hook for an essay. No idea what that is going to be.

But I have always worked well under pressure. Professional pressure.

I suck at personal pressure.

A few weeks ago my mother almost died. Then I was convinced it was end game for me.
I am genetically blessed. I don’t get headaches, I don’t get heartburn. When I do get either, it scares me, because you headache and heartburn sufferers out there have a lifetime of knowing how to handle it.

I have an ascending aortic aneurysm. Someday when my cardiologist and surgeon get their Vulcan mind meld on I will have surgery. One of the dangers is what my surgeon calls an “aortic dissection” where my ascending aorta comes apart. Sudden onset heartburn = go to the emergency room. But they aren’t going to save you if it happens. That is not depressing as shit.

Then one of the best friends I will ever have dies.

Drumming up enthusiasm about schoolwork is more difficult than it should be. In the years since I left the cockpit, my compartmentalization skills have atrophied.

Yesterday is one month since Sandy died.

When the sky is beautiful and I am at the beach listening to the waves crash on the shore my mind inevitably goes to the “why?” We talked twice a week. Was there something hidden in her words that I should have seen? As a budding writer I am aware that there can be a lot of meaning between the words. I run through our conversations over and over trying to find what I missed, and I’ll be fucked but I can’t find it.

Word to the wise. Conversations that start with “I need to talk to you about our mutual friend…” never turn out well.

I should turn to and start writing. 5am Thursday I am on the road.

That puts me across the Tappen Zee by 10am. In Pittsburg around 4 or 5pm. My cars GPS has a traffic predictive thing, and it takes construction zones and traffic into account while predicting your arrival time. Rand McNally says here to Pittsburg should be 10 hours. Last time I checked, GPS (I should give her a name!) said 11.5 hours. By 6pm we will be reminiscing and chowing down on BBQ.

My shipmate has two daughters in college. If they try to put me in one of their rooms I will insist on sleeping in my sleeping bag in the garage. There is just something so off about sleeping in a friends teenage hottie daughter’s bedroom.

Another ten hours on the road and I will be somewhere south of Memphis. Find a Best Western or a Holiday Inn Express. Another ten hours, New Braunsfels Texas.

Three days there, then three days back. Six days on the road total. I am really hoping for some clarity.