Panic and Pressure πŸ’€ | Perforated Lines
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⚑ October 14, 2014

Panic and Pressure πŸ’€

An arrangement of plants and one of David Duthie's pink pitchers with an orange handle.

An arrangement of plants and one of David Duthie's pink pitchers with an orange handle.

Some days are better than other days. Some shows are better than other shows. Last night’s show did not turn out the way I’d planned, and I feel badly about it. I’m taking notes right now on how I can fix things for the future.


1. Don't take a nap so close to showtime. I did. Sometimes it can't be helped.

Some days the writing doesn’t come so well either. I’ve rearranged some furniture in the real world, however, so I have that going for me. I’m posting a pretty picture, too. Baby steps.


2. Panic serves no purpose.

I need to learn how to go all Zen on my head and stop the downward spiral that is fast and then faster and faster, ending in a big fat splat. I should have a cheat sheet or a code book or a laminated map that I can consult when my brain freezes and I fishtail on the black ice of panic.

Once upon a time I was working on a $43-million-dollar proposal for a company in Princeton. There was a strict deadline involving a Saudi prince with some heavy ribbon seals and wax who was waiting in a limousine outside the building to time-date the entry. It was the dawning of the microcomputer era, and all I had to do was look down and find the letter C on the keyboard, which would clear a problem and then everything would go smoothly.

Panic can be a funny thing, in retrospect. The letter C on the keyboard doesn’t just get up and leave the machine, but if your mind is skidding around and screaming at corners, you could be fooled. Too much pressure makes your thoughts skip away. Do you remember when watermelon had seeds? Did you ever press them between your fingers when you were sitting on the stoop late in the day when it was nice and hot?

Watermelons used to have big black seeds all through them and although genetically modifying food sounds like a bad idea in theory, I sort of don’t miss the seeds. I do miss the stoop, however, as well as those nice and hot summer days that have suddenly gone too soon. πŸ”