Running Away...

Sometimes I get overwhelmed by all the things in front of me--this is going to be one of those weeks.

Yesterday I was trying not to think of all of these things that I have to do--I was trying to just enjoy the day at the zoo with Fran and the kids. The weather is finally starting to turn autumn-like, which is one of my favorite times of the year. But yesterday I was fighting the urge to make mental lists of all of the things I really should be doing or will be doing.

I tend to load myself up with so many responsibilities that it is impossible to accomplish my list. I'm always hurrying from one place to another, and feel like I'm always running late. I know people who just refuse to be bogged down with more tasks than they can complete, and in fact for good measure they leave themself 10-15% of their time unscheduled for good measure. I always thought of those people as lazy.

Then I listened to this CD by Stephen Covey called "First Things First"--I'm sure it's based on one of his books, but it sounded like an excerpt from a lecture series. I've referred to this before, because it seems that every time I listen to it it changes my perspective a little--very powerful. But one thing he says about people who schedule every moment of their time is that some people get addicted to the urgency, the rush, of running around frantically and being busy. I don't think this applies to me exactly, because I do take time away, but sometimes I wonder if it's enough.

Several times, I've wondered if I could get away with just turning the car north and driving. When I was in fourth grade, I read about a bus driver who entered a "fugue state", during which he just zoned out, forgot his responsibilities, left everything and just drove off. I have a car--gas isn't the limiting factor, I could pack some snacks...Maybe it wouldn't be too bad to fake a fugue episode and just take off...I'm sure I would be forgiven a couple of days.

I wonder if I'm thinking this way because a person I know just died...the grandfather of a girl I knew in High School--I saw his obituary in the paper this weekend (I remember reading somewhere that you know you are getting older when you stop looking for your friends in the "Engaged and Married" section of the paper and start looking for them in the Obituaries). I remember that this grandfather was a very quiet man. He would go to McDonalds every morning to have coffee with a group of friends--we called them "The Breakfast Club". One time he won $20,000 in one of those promotional games they have where you peel stickers off the side of your hash browns or whatever. One of the things I remember about this man is that he would sometimes just announce to his family that he was taking a break, and drive off in his van for several days. Sometimes a week.

Where would I go? I'd probably get lonely before I got fifty miles away. And then, once I got out of range of my favorite radio station I would start to get depressed. I would just start munching down my snacks. Things would be so quiet, because I would have to pause on the bridge over the lake as I leave town and gleefully, vengefully fling my ever-squealing cell phone into the murky depths. It wouldn't be a break unless I did that...

No, I would probably have to take my little buddy--Ryan, my son, and let him fugue-out with me. He'd be cool with it as long as I let him bring the GameBoy and a stack of games. We'd go out to the Grand Canyon and check that out--maybe do some fly fishing in Colorado. Drive up into the mountains, then to the ocean in California--he's never seen the ocean. See? I couldn't just do something overtly selfish--I would have to do it under the guise of a goal-driven trip for the benefit of my son. I couldn't just wander aimlessly. I'd make a terrible homeless person--I need goals, dammit!

Well, I'll face my responsibilities for today...and this week...and I guess the rest of my life. I'll let you know if I decide otherwise....