I drug myself from my writer’s lair this weekend, Jonesing (I think Jonesing is capitalized?) for an adventure.
I was literally headed to Wal-Mart for a new sling-back chair; you know – one of those that you can fold up into a bag and “sling it over your back.” I was hoping to go somewhere, away from people, and just consider the Universe and my place in it.
Instead, I ended up in Reno, surrounded by people and pushing slot machine buttons for thirteen hours - heading back to Sacramento at 5:30 a.m., when I finally noticed that there were very few people in Circus Circus with me – except the occasional waitress wanting to know if I desired a cocktail. I had no idea what time it was and was a tiny bit embarrassed about the passage of time doing something so “irrelevant.”
Yet, on my way back home, a two-hour drive, I realized several wonderful things about my little foray into the less than glamorous “Biggest Little City in the World.”
First, I had no plans and I literally followed my nose. I happened to have some clean long pants in a laundry basket in the back of my car, but I was fully prepared to stroll around in shorts if need be. I didn’t have any ideas about what to do and where to stay if I chose to. I just went. Yay for me!
Secondly, I’ve always thought I suffered from a lack of concentration. Oh, really? Well, how then do you explain a woman who sat for five hours, with hardly a potty break, broke for dinner, and then returned for another seven hours to sit in front of very distracting machines, consistently making huge decisions, like – Do I bet 30 pennies or 60 pennies this time? Obviously, it’s all a matter of priorities and interest level.
Mostly I came home ecstatic to know that I can still pull off an all-nighter. Recently, I’ve come to regard myself as an old lady – 57 years of age – who obviously can’t hang with the youngsters anymore. Oh, yeah? Bring ‘em on baby. You know what they say, “You can’t keep a good woman down!”
