Ah-Ha vs. Good Grief

I am usually happy with who I am. From a writer and painter to a bleeding heart animal lover to unicorn collector, I’ve finally become comfortable with myself.

That is, until I take the backwards road to find an answer to something.

I’ve often said I am of the “pretzel logic” variety — I get to the same place everyone else does, but it takes me longer, for I take side roads, open closed doors, and often get stuck in the mud or in a sandstorm.

I have developed a patience for this lifestyle, but at times I frustrate myself to death. Like “Why didn’t I think of finding that information the easy way?”

Today was a great example of this. I wasted an hour trying to find the original publisher of a book I wanted to credit in a novel I’m writing. Instead of looking in the Library of Congress, a catchall for any book you want to research, I went to this website and that website and read a dozen articles that never once said the publisher was Brace and Company.

That’s in the same category as “Why doesn’t this thing turn on?” when all I had to do was find the hidden switch, or “Why did I drive five miles out of my way when I could have cut over on Highway D?”

Why do I waste so much time going the pretzel way?

Some have attributed this half-conscious sabotage on moving before thinking. Or speaking before thinking. Or acting before thinking. But, being 67, I have slowed down. Thought things out. Reasoned and Researched.

It’s not only my age. I’ve been pretzelling for 40 years or more. Probably even when I  was a teenager. My sons are really good at what they do and how they speak and how they react. So I know it’s not genetic.

But there are times when, by the time I get there, the answer is so obvious I am embarrassed to have shown up at all. That the answer is so obvious my grandkids could have answered it while I was still fooling around.

Now, there is nothing wrong with being this way. Obviously we finish what we’ve started/where we’re going/what we want to do. It just takes us sooooo much longer to get there.

Do you ever feel that way? That you “take the long way home” like Supertramp sings, even if you’re looking for the shortcut way?

I can’t really “hurry up” any more. I mean, I can find more efficient and direct ways to do things, but time is not something I can control. I also can take on fewer tasks in general, which I’m trying to do, with limited success. 

If you find a way to straighten your pretzelly path without taking away from who you are, let me know.

Until then, I will just hope that my “ah-ha!” moments catch up with my “good grief” moments.