Restless.

My thumbs drum on the wheel. I have the music blaring and I know the song but singing it takes too much effort. I get bored with it. I finally turn on to the highway. Any speed slower than about 70 seems like a crawl and it’s driving me crazy. I let my foot weight down more heavily on the peddle as I look over my shoulder and drift into the next lane. I stare at the speed dial. It reaches 140. My old car (emphasis on ‘old’) had only gone up to 85. I want to ignore everything inhibiting me from doing what I’m itching to do: put the gas peddle to the floor and see if the car can really go 140 miles per hour.

See what it feels like to fly.

Why do I feel this way? So…

Restless.

I change the radio station. The popular music isn’t doing it for me. Nor the country. Nor the talk radio. Not even the classical station. Nothing to help me burn off the annoying energy that burns in my limbs.

Even my thoughts are restless. I can’t focus on anything. Things I maybe could focus on I feel the need to not think about. My thoughts bounce from this to that to the other thing, leaving me annoyed and angry with myself.

I feel pent up. About to explode. For no reason. And the speed limit is just what it says- limiting. And all the other cars are in the way. And the fact that it probably won’t be safe to race the car on the highway against nothing but the wind isn’t far from my mind.

UGH. Do you ever feel like this?

Restless?

-Melissa

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One thought on “Restless.

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