It's a long walk from the main gate of my camp to my bunk. I estimate it to be roughly 500m in the day (when I'm fresh) and about 21km at night (when I'm crawling back from home). Everybody hates the long walk in. "Let me give you a ride in/out" in my camp is a phrase that's as warmly received as "I'm 21, pretty and rich, please have my children" outside of it.
Strangely enough, I've come to appreciate it. My days are so tightly sequenced with an array of high-adrenalin crisis situations, that there's hardly an hour gone by without the little twanging sound of my heart fibres snapping under the strain. The walk has become a peculiar blessing.
Espcially at night when I book in just before midnight. When it's all velvety dark and the calmness envelopes you, every step of the 21km journey saps your body but renews your spirit. You get a little space, a little chance to just think.
In particular, I like to reflect upon the day that has just lapsed, rewinding and replaying my favourite snippets. A phone call from a dear friend, or an unexpected message of comfort, or unsolicited attention from a pretty salesgirl (Sir, wow, could I interest you in....). I also dwell passingly in the unwholesome portions of the day, indulging myself in the occasional smatter of self-pity. An undeserved reprimand, or a lesson not well-executed, or unsolicited attention form a pretty salesgirl (... this facial wash? You look like you need it!)
Best of all, this walk somehow seems to replenish my limited store of inspiration. Like a timely refill, I find myself armed with the ink to coalesce random thoughts into blog entries, or new goals and dreams, or just quirky thoughts that remind me my appointment with the MO is due.
You're right, Luk, I've found my silver lining for today. =)
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