Jalopy

I am operating on overload. Still pushing through and accomplishing the tasks, but without heart. I'm just doing what I have to do. 

If I were a car I'd be a jalopy. 

My tires are losing their grip, my gears are grinding, my shocks are sagging and my engine is overheating. I'm limping along, nursed by temporary fixes.

I understand that my Cadillac days are behind and that my wish to be a Bentley...hmm, or Ferrari is just highly unlikely imagination, they are not how I roll. But, I would like to be a well oiled machine, a collectable, a restored classic collectable. 

I need my paint polished, and my headlights shined. I need to get the cobwebs out of my carburetor, inflate my tires, flush my radiator and recharge my battery. 

I'm going for a drive.

Going to put a few hundred miles distance between me and here. I'm going where the air is clean and cool and smells like burning leaves and campfire s'mores. I'm going where the food is flavored by an authentic Autumn seasoning and the apple cider is hot and spiced on my taste-buds. I'm going where the sheets are smooth white and pillows surround like soft hugs. I'm going where orange, yellow and red leafed foliage don't grow close to the ground like tropical Florida's Fall wanna-be's, where instead those vivid colors dress the tall forests. A vision of loveliness for sore eyes.

It won't be long before each breath of Autumn has cleansed and every cell is birthed in new oxygen. It's good that it won't take long because I haven't long, just a handful of days and then it's back to the familiar. I will again shed my sweaters and shoes, and the tastes and smells and sights will recede, almost like it never even happened. But I'll notice my gears grind less, my ride has smoothed out and my check engine light is off.

When I pull into a parking space back on the job, I'll see my reflection in the car next to me, and be pleased to see I'm not a jalopy after all. I am a classic restoration.