control

She bit her lip and spat the blood onto the pavement.  It splashed dark red but she didn’t notice.  She was already seeing red.  The day had been trying.  The night before had been too short and everyone and everything seemed to be against her from the moment she opened her eyes.  The house had lost power at some point during the night and her alarm had failed to go off so she woke up late.  She’d raced to get ready only to find there wasn’t anything in the fridge she could grab for an easy breakfast.  Her stomach grumbled its protest but she didn’t have time to fix a real breakfast.  It would have to wait.  She’d gotten into her car only to remember and then see the glowing icon that meant she was nearly out of gas so she’d have to take the bus from the stop up the street, which was also late and full, so she’d had to stand which became nearly impossible as she was jostled by the sudden stops and starts and sharp turns the driver made navigating rush hour traffic.  Then, getting off at her stop she had collided with a man.  The contact had been accidental but it had been jarring enough that she’d bitten her lip.  Her mouth filled with blood, she spit it out and stepped over it.  She was late.  She didn’t even realize she had done it.

The morning did not define her, though.  Nor was it a reflection of who she generally was.  Normally, she was poised and precise.  And once she settled into her desk and got caught up on what she’d missed that morning she tried to regain a semblance of normalcy.  Her mind, however, kept running back over the events of the night before and all the issues from the morning.  Was she losing it?  Why had she agreed to stay out so late?  How had she not noticed the power go out?  Why had she let her fridge get empty?  Why had she let her gas tank also drop so low?  Why hadn’t she been steady on her feet on the bus or watched her step as she got off? None of that was like her…  She was too young for her mind to be slipping, wasn’t she?

Round and round her thoughts tumbled and then, in the middle of a delicate email on an important topic, her fingers froze, hovering over the keyboard.  Had she spit?  Had she actually spit blood onto the pavement right in front of her office?  She was so distraught by the idea that she actually stood up, ready to march back to the street and see if her blood was still sitting there, splattered and dried.  Then she sat back down with a little shake of her head and completed the email.

No.  Going to look for the blood was definitely something a crazy person would do.  She refused to be crazy.  She was far too poised and precise to let her sanity slip away.

what day is it?

Questions, questions, questions… and then just when you think there couldn’t possibly be any more, they came up with another one.  How are they always doing that?

Do large groups of people, full of commotion, camaraderie, and a cacophony of sound (I love alliteration), energize me or do they send me reeling away in search of a quiet corner?

Simply put, yes.

When I’m in the mood, I can feed off the energy of a crowd, it can get me going, pump me up and keep me up, moving, interacting, dancing, all through the night and past the wee hours of the morning.  I’m a dj.  I know how to feed of the energy of a crowd.  I know how to take that energy and spin it right back out so that others can feed off my energy.  Let’s get this parted started!  Let’s keep it moving!

However, I’m not the 18 year old kid I was when I first stepped behind the decks and started spinning those black circles round and round.  There are definitely days when I’m just worn out to the core already and having that wall of sound all around me, having those people with their questions and their movement and their need for attention, is just more than I can handle.  The sound is like lightning, in a bad way, flashing across my brain.  (Yes, I meant lightning there, not thunder.  Sheesh!  Who is telling this story?  May I continue?  Okay, here we go…)

So, sometimes I love the crowd and sometimes I hide from the crowd.  In general, I’d say that’s probably pretty normal.  Hmm, but since I’m the jester I shouldn’t do “normal” right?  So, never mind, scrap the rest of the post, and here’s the answer:

I’m an entertainer!  Bring on the people!  Bring on the noise!

Are you not entertained?

I wrote, I wrote some more, I NaNoWriMoed

Or, in other words, some shameless self promotion.

So, I finished my NaNoWriMo project.  I will continue to post a new chapter each day until the 24th… because that’s the last one.  Silly, silly.  Hopefully I didn’t ruin any suspense you may have had by letting you know there are only 5 more updates until the end!!

Anyway, on to business.  I finally got around to setting up my official NaNoWriMo account this weekend.  You can look me up (djmatticus) at http://www.nanowrimo.org.  I haven’t figured out how to buddy up with anyone yet, but if you want to find me, now you can.

My word counts don’t match up because of some updates in the official version I submitted for validation and the version I’ve been posting on here.  So, that’s what is up with that in case you noticed and/or cared. 

Also, you can follow some more of my shenanigans, 140 characters at a time, on twitter via @matticusdj.

Thanks again to all of my loyal readers who have had to put up with my nano posts so far this month.  I’ll try to get back into the normal swing of things in the next couple of days.  Whatever the heck that means.  If you know, could you tell me via a comment or something, that would be swell.

That’s right, I said “swell.”  Get over it.

Or, if you want me to post segments of other writing projects I’m working on you could let me know that too.  Maybe that could be my new normal.  It will be like New Coke, only better, more palatable while being less drinkable at the same, and with fewer calories.  Everyone wins.