Rambling Reflections on Red Lights and Insomnia

I drove through a red light yesterday. I don't often do it, and I suppose in the grand scheme of things it's not very exciting, but I did: I drove through a set of red lights and into the path of oncoming traffic. Thankfully, there wasn't any traffic at the time, but heavens, if there had been, it might have been a little bit more chaotic, don't you think? Dunno why, but I've been lately quite distracted, which doesn't bode well when you're driving from place to place. My housemate Judi says so too - she said the other day, "jeeez, just focus on your driving, will ya?!" I think it's cos there's too much stuff running through my head and I tend to drift off. It's the same problem when I finally turn the lights off and try to go to sleep... the brain kicks in with a myriad mindless matters, and all hell breaks loose inside the ol' gray matter. What kind of thoughts, you ask? Well, mainly the usual stuff... what am I gonna do tomorrow about XXXXX and XXXXX (insert relevant problems of the week here; usually music and musical related)?; when am I going to start working on XXXXX and XXXXX (insert relevant assignments for uni here, usually drama or journalism related)?; what is the meaning of my life? where am I heading? what's it all about? hmmm? can you tell me that? Oy. *sighs*

Anyway, last nite while driving through the red lights I was actually looking for a turn-off onto this other road, having come from my dear friend Beattie's house (hiiii Beaaaattieeee!). I'd driven to Beattie's after dropping by my other friend Miller's place (hiiii Millerrrr!) to pick up a drum kit. Yup. A drum kit. Why? Because, to relate back to the problems that plague my mind in the middle of the night, of the music; more specifically, the music practice that was due at 9:30am the following day (i.e. this morning). I'd arranged for a drum kit because the musical Captain Quokka (see sidebar) will incorporate percussion, but at the last minute my mate Jules (hiiiii Juullleeess) calls and says his drum kit was mysteriously stolen from his house by a non-consent-seeking relative, which left me to rush about looking for a replacement kit.

So! 8:10pm and I'm stuck with no kit. 9:30pm, have to pick up Judi from work in Applecross. 8:15pm, call Beattie to pick up remnants of her drum kit, which she has graciously let me borrow, thank you, Beattie, you're a lifesaverrrr!! 8:25pm, call Miller to pick up other remnants of the same drum kit (Beattie bought it from Miller, and even before she can have a bash at 'em, I've taken 'em away from her, aren't I awful?). After a rushed shower, 8:45pm, leave the house. Head to Miller's. Linger till past 9pm. Rush to Beattie's. Linger till past 9:20pm. 9:21pm, Judi SMSes to say Hey, meet me at half past! 9:22pm, rushing out from Beattie's driveway. 9:24pm, zooming down Manning Road in search of aforementioned turn-off to another road. 9:29pm, drive through red lights into nonexistent oncoming traffic. 9:38pm, meet Judi, sit down for a nice settling cup of coffee and (her) carrot cake, and start to contemplate on a myriad mindless matters: is this all worthwhile? where's my life headed? what's it all about? hmmm? can you tell me that? Cut to 5am, and I'm in bed, blinking weary-eyed, staring blankly at the ceiling, and -- distantly musing on the fact that I'd nearly been in a possible car wreck with a huge bass drum jammed in the back seat, three cymbals which damn bloody possibly could've sliced my neck off, two cymbal stands with sharp pointy metal rods that could've pierced right through the back of my skull, and Judi's pair of high heel shoes in the rear leg-space which (let's face it) are the most deadly and damaging of all of the aforementioned traumas -- remembering that I'd forgotten to borrow a pair of drum sticks for the drummer to drum with.

what's it all about? hmm? can you tell me that?

Oy.