Lining them up

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While I would prefer to think otherwise, it is likely the sign of a small mind to obsess over the picayune details of everyday living throughout an entire night. Such however was my unfortunate condition last Wednesday evening. In defence, my haunting fears were abetted by the peripheral forces of a violent storm bearing lashing winds and torrential rains, made all the more provocative by the scrapping of branches against the side of the house and the concussion of hydro wires. One more thing to add to my list – the arborist!

When, after having brooded for hours upon the tedious refrain of a multitude of tasks screaming for cognizance, I finally revived myself in a numbed and dilapidated state at six o’clock this morning, it was but a heartbeat before I began planning my assault upon the mountain of misery which I had so painstakingly manufactured overnight. Whether driven by impatience or an appetite for consummation, in my aching state of insomnia I had assembled a list of duties which had by now assumed an unquestionable urgency. Suddenly everything was on the table and everything needed to be fixed! I had convinced myself that for too long I had allowed these several problems to slip into apparent oblivion and their compelling nature needed to be revived.

As I had already established a certain priority among my list of things which required application, I jumped in with both feet by telephoning two gentlemen of the many trades with which I was currently engaged. My enthusiasm was betrayed by the fact that I was calling them only shortly after seven o’clock in the morning. I have long been convinced that any tradesman worth his salt is well on the road to prosperity before eight o’clock. I was not defeated in this assumption; and, to my entire satisfaction, I was within minutes able to wrestle two of my more component concerns to the ground, with reassuring words from both gentlemen that they would execute the required feats of engineering.

One by one I worked my way through my register of complaints. Not all grievances were centered on fiddling matters of personal importance. Thrown into the mix were other issues arising from my professional obligations, matters which had – as they so often do – percolated to the top only after a reasonable lapse of time but which had now materialized sufficiently to warrant address. In these potentially contentious circumstances one is never entirely certain of the reception one is about to receive in the cooperating office, which naturally excites the agony. Today however I was rewarded with a favourable response, a fact which nicely lubricated the grimy gears of my midnight demons. Things were noticeably starting to look up!

The real lesson in all this torment is that life is guaranteed to provide a relentless manifestation of challenges of one description or another. It is inescapable. It is equally assured that the slaying of the dragon, when at last it happens, will be an ephemeral delight only. Just around the corner another emergency is about to transpire. I don’t mean to sound defeatist in this, but rather straightforward. Whether it takes a restive night or any other scheme to surmount the current dilemmas in one’s life is a matter of personal preference in the end. It appears that my own tact is to quietly suffer periods of inactivity before becoming agitated enough to line them up and shoot them down.