(This post will seem odd to all but a very few of you. All will be explained in time.)

This morning I was driven to the most desperate, urgent point of nerves, enough that I felt sick, enough that small things irritated me and I raised my voice at a wonderful lady, enough that I left curtly and slammed the door, enough that I cursed, loud and long, as I threw myself into my car and drove to the post office.

I had to fight to keep from yelling as I sneered at a woman who parked close to the door. Unlike you, I can manage to walk more than ten feet, I spewed at her mentally, wheeling into a space across the way. Striding into the post office, I labored for control of myself, clutching the thin parcel in my arms as if it could somehow give me strength.

It wasn’t long before I was forcing politeness to the lady at the counter, paying her with my check card, and finally moving out of the building and back to my car.

And then I burst into tears.

Nervous! I realized, and said aloud, “I’m nervous!” The nausea, the snappishness, the anger over inconsequential things…I knew, dimly, that I was going to have to apologize to my coworkers, but at that point I was too gripped with the knowledge of my emotions to ponder on it.

Nervous! I sobbed and stopped myself, repeatedly, as I drove away from the post office, up Old Evans Road, and turned left on Washington. I chose to drown my fear in a McRib sandwich and a low-fat Berry Berry smoothie. It was very difficult not to cry at the drive-thru.

Now, I’m calmer. But that desperation still thrums within me, making me restless. I won’t know something until next week, and even then it will only be preliminary. My mind is filled with the word Please.

Please. Please see what I see. See that this is perfect, this is how things should be. Let me have my dream.