9:42 and thereafter

I woke up at 9:42am. The last train of the morning/early afternoon left at 8:49am. The next train… not until after 6:00pm. It looked like my trip to Chicago would have to wait.

As I drove to work yesterday, I knew in my heart… I need to leave. This happens to me every so often on my way to work in the mornings. It takes everything in me to get off 43, take the Lakefront exit, and actually finish my route to work. There are mornings where the music is too good, the scenery too enticing, and my soul is beckoning to for me to continue driving, letting the V-machine take me where it damn well pleases.

I don’t typically curse in my blogs. Today feels like a cursing day.

As I mentioned, while driving to work yesterday, I knew I needed to leave - that I needed to get away at least for a little while. I find it interesting that nothing of huge consequence happened this week. My car did not break down. Our house didn’t get robbed. I didn’t lose a loved one. I didn’t lose my job. Nothing major happened… And yet, this was probably one of the most emotional weeks I’ve had in a long, long time.

So, 9:42am this morning… I missed the only train I could take, and decided that driving wasn’t really that appealing. The whole point was to have two, uninterrupted hours on the train to read, journal, take photos, and think. I like to think. Most of you know that… But thinking is one of my most favorite past times… and probably one of my sweetest downfalls.

Reminds me of the Regina Spektor song, Samson. “You are my sweetest downfall…” I should put on some Regina Spektor as I write… Mojave 3, which is what is currently tickling my ears (as well as MIA which is currently blaring through the café speakers, and my headphones are failing to drown out) just isn’t cutting it.

Wow... Rabbit trail. Back on track now... no pun intended.

Train to Chicago = not happening.

I got out of bed, wandered downstairs, and while I ate breakfast, I contemplated what my day would behold. After agonizing over a few different options (one of which included staying locked away in my house doing nothing), I finally decided to hop in my car and drive to Madison.

Today was a day that required a fair amount of convincing… I really didn’t want to brave State Street because it seemed as though there may have been a Wisconsin game that had just gotten over as there was a mad swarm of red everywhere. Craziness. After driving around the downtown area of Madison for about a half an hour, I found myself back at the Capitol, with my car sitting in front of a Starbucks. Starbucks? I drove my butt all the way to Madison to go to Starbucks?

After a few minutes of coaxing, I convinced myself to put my car in drive, and continue my quest to find a local coffee shop that had a bit of “flavor” to it. After another 10 minutes of driving, I finally resorted to finding something on State Street. As I pulled into a parking spot and gathered my belongings, I looked up and in front of me I could see “Barriques Coffee Trader.” My heart beamed… I found my place, and it wasn’t on State Street.

I headed inside, and the place could not have provided more delight to my soul. Cast iron artwork all over the place, funky tile, and a girl with dreadlocks serving me my coffee. Could I have asked for a better place to hang out?

I got my drink, and headed to a table on the second level. There’s a bi-level coffee shop in Milwaukee, and I love sitting on the second floor and being able to look down on all the hustle and bustle in the store.

I sat down, and pulled out my journal. I put the pen to the paper… nothing. I was stumped. I could not find the words to write, and I found myself in a place of not WANTING to write. I didn’t want to think about it… I didn’t want to write any words except curse words. And I’m not just talking about the word damn. I’m talking about words you’d never hear me use (except for my roommate Brittany who heard me use them a few times, in our old office, behind closed doors.)

I threw the journal back in my bag, and pulled out my laptop. I distracted myself with reading a couple of emails, and checking Twitter updates. Boring. I can do that at home. After a few moments of wasted time, my heart kept nagging at me… “Write.” I yelled back at it, “No, I don’t want to.” I did this all internally of course, otherwise the lovely couple next to me who is nursing a bottle of wine, and sharing a lovely Saturday afternoon together would have looked at me quite strangely. My heart didn’t stop though… “Write.”

So, I did.

I started writing something lame about how I wish my life had a soundtrack… And I do. I have been listening to so many good tunes lately that I wish they’d be playing in the background as I experience certain moments in life.

However, it was a sad excuse for “writing.” Pathetic, really. I needed to write from my heart – not some stupid junk about how life needs a soundtrack. So, I opened a new document, and started writing this piece…

I’m nowhere near where I should be with writing honestly – writing what I’m really feeling/thinking… what I’m going through, why my heart hurts so much, and about how much I just want to run away from it all.

But it’s start… I will continue to write. I will continue to find the words my heart needs to express. I will continue to explore the possibilities of what could grace (or muddy up) the paper before me.

For now… this is what you get. My journey at a coffee shop to write what my heart really wants to say. More to come, I’m sure…