Slugging Confessional

I think I have to change my name and give myself an unofficial PhD. I appear to attract people who want to confess some of their darkest deeds and deepest secrets, and I don't even know them. I can't help but picture some of the episodes of that horrible, but captivating HBO special "Taxicab Confessions." If you haven't seen it, it's basically people acting badly in taxicabs and the driver egging them on. Usually you see and hear some pretty strange stuff.

When you think of slugging in DC, you can pretty much assume a generally affluent, educated commuter joining the throngs of other affluent, educated commuters to form a relatively boring crowd of affluent, educated robots marching into DC to fire up their Dell desktop computers in their cubicles. At least that is what I used to think until some of these folks started sharing some of the darker aspects of their personalities. It's amazing what people will blurt out in an hour long ride to work with strangers!!!

To be fair, I've become friends with some of these people. I will not go into some of the sordid details of their lives out of respect. But the anonymous ones who choose to air their dirty laundry to a stranger, I won't really feel so bad about summarizing those.

I actually think it started with the Pope's visit. It seemed like once he landed in the U.S. everyone became a Catholic to some degree. People were feeling the need to just make their sins public. I don't recall anyone asking for forgiveness, but sometimes just saying it out loud can be an act of contrition and repentance all on its own.

Over the last few weeks, I've heard about random sluggers' adulterous affairs, cheating spouses, illegitimate children, money problems, drinking problems, sexual dysfunction (my personal favorite), extended family disputes, property disputes, disrespectful children, wedding plans, divorce plans, travel plans, and career plans. Most of this falls into the popular category of "WTMI" (for those not in with the cool kids, that's "way too much information").

I don't consider myself nosy, nor do I consider myself a gossiper. But this slugging experience has started to intrigue me. I'm always wondering what people will tell me, just how personal they will get. Maybe it's just my nature, but unless I know you and trust you, I don't just vomit my personal problems all over people. Perhaps these people haven't figured out that they will see the same faces again and again. Perhaps they don't care. It bothers me to know that someone I hardly know knows my personal business, out of context, and is probably judging me. I know. You are asking yourself right now if I'm judging these folks.

ABSOLUTELY!!! :)

Nah, not really judging them so much as using them to form a larger picture of life against which I can compare my own.

In some cases, I feel better about myself and my life based on what I hear. In some cases, I hear about something someone is going through, and I feel somewhat pessimistic about my experiences. In others all together, I feel sympathetic or empathetic, and I try to offer advice or understanding because I have been there or done that.

Overall, I've noticed that it happens more when I drive. I think it's because people know you are watching the road and won't make eye contact with them. It usually happens in those earliest moments before the sun comes up. In fact, it seems that the talking slows or stops as the sun comes up. It happens most often with people who know you just enough to recognize your face or car, but there is rarely a name exchange. The conversation nearly always ends with a farewell wish for the best and an empty promise that everything will be OK.

If you've ever been to confession, you are seeing the spooky comparisons here right?

I guess you could say that this is basically supporting proof for the soul-cleansing experience of confession, no matter how you do it. Sometimes our burdens can become too heavy, and we need to know that someone else out there will carry them for us. Another common thread with these people is that they all seem to be missing that one person to whom they can go to be completely honest and open. They live lives that require them to lean on someone, anyone for at least a few minutes even at the expense of their pride or reputation.

As Oscar Wilde once wrote, "it is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution." So, those who don't seek priests or don't believe in the formal act of confession seek therapists or friends. In Washington DC, they seek a fellow slugger.

Dr. Jill
Hours: 6-7am and 3-4 pm, by appointment only as seats are limited.

(remember, I'm changing my name and giving myself a PhD)

Why Working in DC Only Sucks Most of the Time

Ahhh, Washington, DC, the seat of the national government. What isn't there to love? On any given day, amidst the beautiful landscape of monuments and museums, you can find protesters, politicians, street hustlers (also see politicians), and oceans of robotic government workers (see those of us who work for said politicians and street hustlers). Finishing out that beautiful picture are hundreds of thousands of cars pouring into the city at the same exact moment creating a beautiful collage of colors and textures. There are some days that are more lovely than others. Right now, the sun is shining, the temperature is mild, flowers are blooming, and the freaks are out in full force.

The Pope is in town, and every wacko known to man is either here to see him or to protest him. Only in DC can you find love and hate all in the same place. When you have a buffet of political causes and world renowned leaders to choose from , you can even turn your love and/or hate for any topic into a full time job. Because this is a monumentally historic moment, security has to be beefed up drastically. Roads have to be closed. Buildings have to be closed off and used as spotter locations. Metro service has to be increased, and parking fees have to quadruple. So for those of us with REAL full time jobs, monumentally historic moments like the Pope's visit became monumental pains in the ass. (Yes, I'm Catholic.)

I just so happen to work close enough to the beautiful new Washington Nationals Stadium where Pope Benedict XVI will say Mass tomorrow that life has the potential to really suck for a while. Today, he's traveling across town to visit the President, etc etc. He's conducting Pope business. Meanwhile, the lowly minions serving the great and valueless dollar must figure out ways to get to work around various road closures, blockades and checkpoints.

Yesterday, just as I was leaving work, the Pope was landing in our beautiful capital, and the city was vibrating with ringing church bells and squealing sirens. Traffic, at rush hour, was stopped or diverted from the busiest roads known to man.

In case I haven't mentioned it, also mixed in with the politicians, protesters, street hustlers, government minions, and general freaks you can find a very large, unwanted selection of media representatives. Everyone from ABC, NBC, CBS, FOX, CNN, CSPAN, FOXNEWS, Discovery Channel, Telemundo, Disney, Wayne's World, whatever, has cameras set up and rolling in my direct line of commuting. Every other media wonk is standing around flashing a press badge hoping to hear or see something that will win him or her the coveted "who gives a shit" prize for writing something completely useless.

Tomorrow will be worse. Oh so much worse. Bridges and roads in and around the city are going to close starting at 5AM. They are expecting at LEAST 500,000 people to be wandering the streets near the stadium hoping for a Pontiff glimpse. This is on top of the 50,000 attendees inside the stadium. Oh and yes, just as DC rush hour begins, the transit system will flash us all a very large middle finger and wish us a good day.

But here is why working in DC only sucks most of the time.

I'm working from home tomorrow! :)

For the rest of you unlucky bastards, ENJOY! Just remember, I sat for 7 hours on I95 for no reason. The cosmos owe me one!

Moving in slow motion

OK, enough bitching about my not updating my blog since I got back from vacation! :)

You know how it is. You come back from vacation, and you need a few weeks to readjust your attitude. I've simply been struggling to remember why I came back to work at all! But I'm back, and so are the stories.

Have you ever had those days when it feels like you are moving in slow motion all the time?? Today is one of those days for me. I can't really figure out why, but I know it's progressing at an alarming pace. Maybe it's because I'm so doped up on allergy medication in celebration of the blooming of spring, or maybe it's because I'm still not sure why I'm still here. Either way, today, my life is moving in slow motion, and I'm on the outside watching it all happen.

I arrived at the lot, late, because nobody would cooperate this morning. I had an overly tired child, and I was overly groggy myself. One of my dogs decided that she would take a break from her normal in and out morning routine to conduct a thorough inspection of every blade of grass within an acre of my house. Normally this would make me somewhat stressed and agitated. Instead, I was just standing there watching it all happening and thinking to myself "this sucks." That's the best I could come up with!

So I finally arrived at the lot, and there are people in the line who instantly recognized me. So they stepped out of line to jump into my car before I fully pulled up. Unfortunately, at the same time, I noticed a man at the front of the line who was also going to my destination. Alas, it was too late to stop them from jumping rank, and I sat and watched this guy's face curl up in anger...in slow motion. I did the "I'm not looking in your direction" departure, avoiding all eye contact or recognition. What could I do? I just didn't have a fast enough reaction time to stop the violation!

Much to my disappointment, one of those people line jumping is the most talkative person on the planet. This is not hyperbole my friends. This person will make you wish you were deaf. And s/he talks about absolutely nothing I could possibly care about even under threat of waterboarding. I drove in with these lips flapping in my ear 1000 miles an hour, but all I could hear was the Charlie Brown teacher voice. "mwah mwah mmmwah wah" over and over again. Since I had no clue what s/he was saying or why, I basically just nodded my head in agreement. I could have been agreeing to drive him/her to work for life, and I wouldn't have known any better. It was as if I had lost complete control of my brain, and my brain was checking out.

Even now, I'm sitting here typing this, and I think it's taken me an hour. I could be wrong. It could be 10 minutes. But right now, everything is moving so slowly that I just can't tell the difference.

So tomorrow when I show up to slug to work, there will be an angry man gunning for me, a talkative person waiting to give me updates on something I have no background on, and possibly a missing dog howling at me. I hope my reflexes can catch up.

For now, I'm going for Round 2 of the caffeine war.