On the Normalcy of Abnormalcy

My life should normalize at some point.

The torrential rains have finally abated, the birthday celebration(s) have finally ended, and the email flurries have finally stopped.

In short, an entire week of often frantic and occasionally furtive activity has finally concluded—and it looks like an entire month of it is coming up.

I knew 2011 would be a big year for me (just turning thirty would have been a milestone enough)—I just didn’t anticipate how “externally” eventful it would be (for lack of a better word). For better or for worse, I’ve lived a mostly quiet life with the majority of the turning points being internal events: minor epiphanies, major heresies, the wholesale slaughter of sacred cows (often accompanied by the wholesale consumption of profane pigs). I’m not used to living a . . . happening life. Sensory rushes overwhelm me, which is why I abstain from television, radio, print and Internet media consumption (in general), why I don’t maintain much of a social life (in particular), and why I cling to the pedestrian anchors of everyday ritual. In short, I appear to have been designed for the quiet English countryside (preferably the Cotswolds), only I was born in an entirely inappropriate era and milieu.

I’ve managed well enough for the last three decades where, apart from a disruptive quarter or two, things have jostled along at a fairly staid and predictable pace. I’ve made a few sudden and (seemingly) startling changes, but they’ve all fallen well within the established boundaries of character and normalcy has always quickly resumed.

That hasn’t been the case since I turned twenty-nine, and especially since the onset of 2011. Every month has been a roller coaster and it’s only gotten loopier as the year has progressed. June’s been particularly hectic (as evidenced by my erratic posting patterns) and I’m facing the somewhat bleak prospect of an even busier July.

Hopefully, things will finally settle down (somewhat) once I’ve passed the dreaded threshold in August. Otherwise, I’ll turn thirty feeling like I’m all of forty.



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