The Duff is having one of those days where his heart is beating double quick, and a pressure seems to be building ever so slightly as the hours pass. It usually culminates in a hyper-adrenalised flight but it didn't happen today. There was much to be desired, and he's so pissed.
Much could be blamed upon his unpreparedness. Some could be heaped upon the fact that he hadn't flown in 9 days, and that the simulator to practice on has been broken. A relic from the 80s with temperaments to match. It also doesn't help that his check flight for this phase is approaching. Stress you might say, is getting to the duff, albeit still in manageable amounts.
And strangely when this happens, its like the floodgates opening upon an unsuspecting dutch city. All manner of insidious thoughts erupt in his forebrain. All the insecurities, all his frustrations, all his negativity comes crashing down like a house of cards. Neuroses in its element.
He tries to overcome this, with the left over adrenaline allowing him to keep his energy up, behaving like a fool amongst friends, acting like an animal in the gym, a force to be reckoned with in an arena, a maniac on his blog posting....
He tried to vent it off. He had wanted to run in the evening, to sweat it all out, to exhaust himself physically and mentally, and perhaps emotionally too. But he got sidetracked. He wished to play a round of squash, to smash the putty looking ball into a forgiving wall, but his schedule denies him thus. His normal escapades into foods have been derailed by a new plan to get back into shape, and to shed 2kg at least before returning home. He tried the rowing machine in the gym to no avail. It was hopeless.
And now his heart is still racing. He needs a punching bag. He needs a fast drive down a very lonely highway. He needs satisfaction, immediate, dirty and sinful. For now, he listens to the soundtrack to Friday Night Lights. A medly of soft electical guitars and other instruments in the background. A collection of waves that always manages to sooth his passionate soul.
An Aries on Fire. Get out of his way.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Now with Explosive Chest Action!
Labels:
anger,
exercise,
flight,
Friday Night Lights,
frustration,
Squash
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment