A very wide right turn

It's difficult for me to believe that the series of events that put me back here has helped me to grow, but the feeling of stagnation is beginning to pass. I don't know what it means. I've watched and rewatched many of the shows that I love, Sherlock being the favorite, and today I thought that I might be time to pick up a book. I'm bored. It's not the same sullen rotting that I've been experiencing; I feel the need to act.

Sustaining two people and paying for my car is challenging on my mother's meager fixed income, and I have been unsuccessful at finding time to get out and earn money driving. The only hours available for such endeavors are the ones that my body prefers to use for sleep. When I haven't rested enough, I cannot tolerate the crochety old tyrant, and the few dollars I made driving nights weren't enough to justify the discomfort. There must be something else. I just need to find it.

I do like how simple my life has become. I just need some socializing and sweat. I'd like to go dancing, but I need money for that. I don't think I need much money, but I do need some. The taxes I owe are certainly going to prevent any leisure travel for quite some time, so I've abandoned that hope indefinitely. I still, however, feel my heart sink when I think of Venus. I need a bike. It's strange to say, but I don't feel like myself without one. Riding a motorcycle is so much a part of me that it hurts to not have one. I don't know how it developed into such an intense attachment after so many years out of the saddle, but now that I have only time I return to the thought repeatedly. It feels like heartbreak. It's more than leaving school, more than being brought back here to fill an obligation. I love bikes. I hear my breath and feel my heartbeat when I'm riding. I constantly analyze my stress level and awareness. I notice patterns in the way traffic moves. I anticipate what the other drivers will do on upcoming turns and twists of the road. I feel my vitals connected to the hum of engine and the pulse of the city. I feel alive. That's the best way that I can explain it. 

It actually wasn't the city that I was escaping, it was my family, specifically my mother. I love this city. I missed it. It was unfair to associate my mother with this beautiful place. This is my home. I have begun to meet compliments with contempt again. She gave me a compliment the other day, and I immediately dismissed it as manipulation. I'm still quite certain that it was, but I'm just beginning to consider that the compliment was still valid. My "driver belly" is shrinking. I suppose it was inevitable when I consider the disappearance of fat food from my diet and no more long hours behind the wheel. I haven't cut down on the smoking at all. No surprises there. I've stopped drinking. That was a pointless pursuit anyway. I only drink for fun and there's no fun to be had. I crave the intimate touch of another human being. I have someone in mind, but no free time, privacy or resources to enable the chase. What a wicked sense of humor fate has.