The Urge to Do Stupid Things

This hits me several times a year, usually when I'm tired and my responsibilities are piling up. The urge to do stupid things takes several forms. Sometimes, it takes the "Throw all my crap in a big box and go overseas" form. This one is mighty hard to resist, especially when I get emails from my friends who happen to be overseas and hear tales of their interesting lives. They make my passport itch.

Other times, the urge to do stupid things takes the form of getting a tattoo. I've secretly and not-so-secretly wanted one for years, but I'm too afraid of needles to get one. Since I can barely sit long enough for a phlebotomist to pull several vials of blood for testing, I don't think I could endure thousands of sticks needed to make a permanent design, no matter how much I want one.

Another form of the urge to do stupid things involves giving up my teaching job to pursue a higher degree. What the heck would I do with a higher degree? I don't really want it. It would just be a form of glorified avoidance. I miss being a full-time student sometimes, especially on the days when I manage to erase the parts of my brain that stridently recall just how often big parts of that lifestyle sucked.

There are other forms, all of them some kind of escapism, some of them mild, some of them serious. I drive to school and imagine not taking the right off-ramp but rather flooring it and winding up on the east coast somewhere. Coming home, I see the sign for New Orleans, and I think, "Hmm...." Driving past the shiny, enticingly-curved Chargers on the lot at the local Dodge dealership, I grip the steering wheel and wonder if my budget would stretch to cover the monthly budget if I just whipped in there.

I think, though, that I'm just going to pursue a lesser escape tonight, the refuge of sleep. Maybe that's what's wrong with me. If not, it's Spring Fever, and Katie bar the door, because I'm not sure what will resolve it....