RPMs

Stuck behind a slow mover, waiting on a light to change, counting cars on a seemingly never ending train-all good times. When I was younger, there would be a horn honk, a frustrated exhale, maybe even a bad word or two at my bad luck.  Now, I call someone I haven't spoken to in a while, turn up the radio and sing, or simply breath a little deeper and chill.  Better, but still not totally effective at beating the stress that builds any time something gets in between point A and B.

That's my writing gentle readers.  It feels as if I am stuck in city traffic, stops and starts, bursts of speed followed by slogging and sputtering to a near stand still.   I'm using a lot of gas and it's not so good on the engine.  A lyric here, a verse there, maybe a melody thread once and a while, structurally better, feeling more confident.  I'd love to put the hammer down, but just can't seem to open her up for long.  

I'm telling you people, I've got a shiny machine, low mileage, with a tiger in the tank.  I think.  I think.  But for now, I'm just the annoying punk on the weekend that cruises by slow, revs the engine making sure you hear it, but never, ever gets it out of first.