A Tall and Unstable Stack of Emotions

Today is weird. Yesterday was weird. Maybe tomorrow, too, will be weird. I'm trying so desperately to get a grasp on my life (a very firm hold, preferably around the throat); each time, nearly tangible, then gone.

So, at work today: I spent the better part of an afternoon (of a very, very long day) listening to Elliott Smith and feeling sentimental. Perhaps the maudlinness was inspired by the myriad memories associated with the music--intense relationships ending in painful break-ups, confused college years, solitude in Spain--or the realization that this month, this year is quickly coming to a close. It's that birthday time of year again and I will be twenty-five. The number itself doesn't intimidate me so much as the need, or desire, or compulsion, to evaluate the year past. I'm not quite sure of the accomplishments, failures, or lack thereof (evidence of stagnation). I'm also not quite sure if I'm ready to delve into this quite yet.

Which leads me to... the next emotion: anxiety regarding the graduate school thing. Enumerating each stress-inducing part is unnecessary. Suffice it to say that I'm afraid of not being accepted at any school and (either independently or as a result of) going about the process incorrectly. Unfounded stupidity that won't leave my brain.

I finally left work and was biking home through the neighborhoods--cautiously--when a woman came relatively close to possibly hitting me as she left her parking garage and waited to turn left. She probably would not have hit me but I could see it happening in detail. She saw the car in front of me pass, checked the other direction and was about to pull out. She saw and stopped but if she hadn't looked again, she probably would have hit me. So many drivers, myself included, would not have checked again upon occasion. I don't know how to make myself more visible and I hate being on my guard, constantly, for reckless and inattentive drivers. I hate envisioning multiple and varied collisions between surrounding motor vehicles and myself. This incident (non-incident) brought everything back: the accident, the frustration with the insurance company, the near-constant feeling of being ill-at-ease and tense while biking. So, I started crying. While biking the short distance home. I had to stop once to wipe my face and compose myself. The emotions could have been sadness, anger, frustration, despondency, I'm not sure.

I reached home, unscathed, cried a little more. Felt better, chatted with the roommate, looked at the mail. Opened a letter from the City of Seattle to find a subpoena to act as a witness for the case brought by the city against the stupid woman who hit me with her car. Disbelief, irritation, and resentment. Why can't this conclude itself ever? A touch of perplexity. Why is the insurance company only willing to accept 75% liability if there is a case brought against her by the city?! For the love of everything! Exasperation.

Not sure what I'm feeling now--better. Thanks for listening, all.