The Memory of Vertigo… by nRkangel

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nRkangel

The Memory of Vertigo…
Monday, September 13, 2004

18 days...

I had fallen asleep somewhere over Wichita with my headphones on using my rolled up sweater as a lumpy pillow. (Take it from me, if you aren't flying first class, the window seat is the only seat for sleeping on a plane because you can rest against the bulkhead. If you're a 'coat, you can almost feel Serenity cradling you in her arms.)

In my dream the ground was covered by a thin fog but I could barely make out any details in the fading light of an almost spent day. I felt the rush of wind in my hair but couldn’t hear it in my ears. Then I saw lights go on far below and for some reason, I dove, plunging like a stone. Vertigo gripped my gut in a fist and stretched my insides like a rubber band. I felt like I was a child again on the big kids’ swing with my eyes closed daring myself not to make a sound.

I don’t know how the dream ended. I kind of just found myself focusing with eyes that burned some from lack of sleep and seeing the screens flip down to show the in-flight movie.

When I dream of flying there’s always the dizzying sensation of falling, but it's not real. It's just the memory of vertigo. Most people don’t like those dreams, but I really enjoy them. The thought that my mind has convinced my body that I’m falling to the point that I feel the sudden drop and dizzying fear-excitement fascinates me.

I watched the movie and polished off a seven-dollar sandwich (you have to pay for the food on-board now) and a diet Pepsi. Abandoning all hope of falling back asleep, I pulled out my computer and finished typing up my report about the customer visit. I’d already told my contact in Japan about the issue over the phone, but after a week of travel there's always someone who wants to see a written record of what you did. When I spoke to him, Ken congratulated me on my “last, successful mission” for the company and told me to take myself out to dinner to celebrate. He’s always been a great guy and it was kind of sad to think “last mission” thoughts. Lack of planning aside, it felt really good to rush to a crisis with confidence in myself and my ability.

You know, I know what I'm doing isn't exactly a matter of life or death. I mean, it really pales in comparison to the worries and suffering in a lot of other people's lives. All I’m doing is becoming unemployed and moving to a new town. It's not as if people aren't doing this everyday. (Actually I won’t be “unemployed”, I’ll just be “unpaid”. Well, unpaid in money, anyway…) Still, it’s fascinating that the “worker bee” programming is so strong that it sometimes feels as if there's a knife blade pressed against the meat of my soul telling me to rethink my decision. Fear is still trying to hold me hostage. That's kind of funny to realize.

I’ve packed up the kitchen and bathroom. The clothes I don’t wear regularly are in suitcases and duffle bags. My desk is empty and my bookcases are bare. I’m not close to being done yet, though. Lots of stuff shoved into closets needs to be dragged out into the light of day and I’ve yet to begin the cleanup. But the progress is still enough that I almost feel as if I’m in the apartment of a stranger. Bare patches and empty corners are starting to speculate in whispers about who the next tenant might be. My world is changing even as I watch, and if I close my eyes, I can feel the motion of the swing, the giant arc, and the sensation of flight.

Like the memory of vertigo…

These Dreams
-Heart

COMMENTS

Tuesday, September 14, 2004 11:05 AM

LIZ

Hey!
long time, no see... i hear you about the dreaming about falling thing -- i have a dream, once or twice a year where i'm falling of a ladder or down the stairs and i awake with a violent start.

i am really rooting for you with your new start. i wimped out after i got laid off and took the first job i was offered. ah well, everything happens for a reason, right?

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