My friend Jaxon took a business trip this week. He flew to Dallas during a Midwestern blizzard and he said it was the second worst flight he’d ever taken. Jaxon is a sturdy traveler and he’s stoic about being shoved in a tin cigar hurtling through the atmosphere. He said “they had to keep free-falling and dropping the plane like a bungee cord. People were freaking out.”
Jaxon got home safely late Thursday afternoon, but his flight experience reminded me of my own dislike of feeling trapped. It reminded me of Laika.
I never learned about Laika in high school history class; was the Cold War over by then? Or was it because my history teacher didn’t want to explain that Laika had died so men and women could travel in outer space? It wasn’t until I watched the movie My Life as a Dog in that late 80’s that I learned about Laika and her demise. It was a sad movie and the main character, Ingemar, had sad conversations inside his head. I only remembered Ingemar questioning “I wonder how Laika felt?”
On Fridays I feel like Laika, trapped inside Sputnik 2 and part of some strange space race. Sometimes, I’m out of ideas and I’m mentally tired. I don’t have time to develop my material on Fridays and I don’t like delivering a bad product. I don’t have time to develop my material on Tuesdays, either, but Fridays seem more impossible.
I am navel-gazing. I’m over thinking things, too. In the future, when I want to take a day off from blogging, I’m going to post this picture.
When the heart shows up on the page, it means “something suddenly came up” or “I’m tired” or “I’ve taken on too many projects in addition to working for The Man.” It doesn’t mean I don’t care about consistency and structure and good writing habits.
I appreciate the readers who stop by and read what I write; I enjoy the energy, wit, and intelligence of the commenters, too. Thank you for reading my blog.
See you on Sunday!