(In the practice of Buddhism there are said to be fifty-two stages of the mind on its way to enlightenment. Even the darkest of karmas are washed away in the eternal revolutions of infinity.)
Something about the moon, Isis and a labyrinth… Just a dream. A crazy, foolish dream.
It faded away in the moment inside a moment before I became fully awake. There was something important there. I felt it returning but before I could grasp the meaning it was gone.
Sleeping in the afternoon always leaves me groggy. Mental note: don’t sleep in the afternoon. While I pulled on my socks, the 102.4 News informed me dispassionately that Venus was transiting the sun–and something about it occurring in spans of two hundred and forty three years. While the news continued to blare about Venus, I dimly made out the sound of my wife’s voice. I thought it funny how she even sounds condescending when making small talk.
“So how was work?” she asked.
I quit the bedroom and walked towards my home office, a converted third bedroom. “Fine. Calls, calls and more calls.” I heard her coming up the stairs.
“Well guess what I bought today?”
“I don’t know what?”
I sat down at my desk to find her standing in front of me. She was smiling.
“I got this!” she exclaimed while handing me a large box.
“What exactly is that?”
“A cappuccino espresso machine. This one is top of the line. It can even mix the drink for you. Now you don’t have to go to Starbucks all the time.”
She seemed very happy at the prospect of denying one of my one true joys in life. Going to Starbucks was my way of mingling with society. Now it was threatened, but Venus was transiting the sun. I would not be alive to see that happen again. I was thirty-five years old. Given the average life expectancy half of my life was already over. It suddenly hit me that I didn’t even know what my favorite food was, and half my life was over.
My wife retreated back to the living room. Thank God. I turned on the TV only to find the “Discovery Channel” telling me that our universe was doomed to die in another billion years or so. Not what I want to hear. It was bad enough being conscious of my own mortality much less that of the entire universe. My head suddenly began to swim.
“Do you think maybe you can start getting ready? We are supposed to go over to Jason and Christie’s tonight.”
Her again. Apparently I was going to be forced to fake my way through uninteresting conversations about the same stuff we always talk about. Alex was about as interesting as college algebra.
“Sure. I will get ready.”
Why did I do this? How did my life get reduced to this…this…bad rerun? Every day I go to work and there I deal with the same problems with the same people. Then I come home, and my wife and I have the same conversation, eat the same food and watch the same fucking TV shows which is followed by the same boring sex. Then I go to sleep and dream the same dreams so I can get up and do the exact same thing the next day.
I suddenly felt irrational, impulsive and angry. My life was not a life. My life was a caricature. A sick fucking simulacrum. Who cares if I die? At least then I wouldn’t be subjected to the same year lived another forty times.
“I don’t think I am going to go to Jason and Christie’s.”
She suddenly peeked her perfect mask of a face around the corner. “I’m sorry?”
“I said I am not going tonight. I don’t want to go. I hate going. I don’t even like Jason and I can’t deal with another night of hearing Christy tell us about her wondrous exploits as a reporter.”
She was shocked. I felt a momentary satisfaction.
“Fine I will go by myself.”
“Good. And by the way don’t expect me to be back when you return.”
“What are you talking about Alec?”
“I need to get away. I need time to think.”
“Think about what?” She sounded vulnerable for the first time since before we were married.
“Think about this life, us, my job, this house…everything. I just need to think.”
She capitulated but then I saw the mask fall quickly into place.
“Fine. Suit yourself.”
She turned on her heels and left. I heard her steps echo down the hallway followed by the sound of a slamming door.
What in the hell did I just do? The answers didn’t come. All I knew was Venus transited the sun and the odds were I would be dead in another thirty-five years.
There is only so much time, so much precious time.
