It's my typhoon, damnit.

We're psychic twins, I'm convinced, somehow, Patti and I. (Actually, she's a twin of one of my psychic sisters, which makes her a twin once removed, but that's inside baseball.) Or she's my subconscious therapist. Always putting into words what I am thinking, or offering perspective that my spirit desperately needs and my brain can't rationalize quickly or eloquently enough.

Today: Dreary and foggy. Sparrow stuck in the kitchen before 2nd cup of coffee (maybe he was there all night? rather not think about it.) Couldn't make it to the bank before they closed. Work permit/car lease expiration/visa drama continues. Need to change airline tickets to get home for Danza Sorellina's b-day soiree. Had to call to get the guy to come look at the caldaia (heater!) here, he *may* be here before Sunday (which would be great if it weren't going to be ice-on-the-toilet seat cold TONIGHT.) Note to self: find wool socks and long underwear in as-yet-unpacked boxes. Have a similar 10-day wait for a repairman to look at the mysteriously broken washing machine in the rental condo in DC (that's only, ahem, 3 months old). Got a panicky phone call / email from aforementioned renter at about 10:45 pm (Italy time) that now, adding to the joyous news, there's water coming through the closet ceiling (did I mention the whole place was BRAND NEW three months ago?!) And I'm 6,000 miles away trying to direct repair traffic via cellphone.

And then, at 1:30 am, there's the quote on Patti's 37days blog:

"For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way. Something to be got through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.” – Alfred Souza

The rest of the "Own your Typhoon" is totally read-worthy (as is the previous post, close the boardroom closet), but here's the (/ahem, sic, can't resist/) Readers' Digest version:

"We have an urge to get past the messy, messy once and for all. To get to that point of clarity where the “obstacles” fall away: the desk is clear and there are no toddlers running around with diapers half off, no teenagers remembering at breakfast that they need to make a full-scale plaster model of the universe by tomorrow morning—to clear the decks and make nice, make everything clear and nice and uninterruptible. Yes! When we get there, we will indeed be recognized as a genius! Then, our work in the world will be powerful! We will be on Oprah! Our ship will finally come in! We will save lives! We will miraculously be able to make a soufflé! We will know the difference between poison ivy and ivy, how to pronounce Csikszentmihalyi’s name, and fit into those jeans! All our plants will live and thrive, proving our mother-in-law wrong! If only all those pesky obstacles would go away. ... When I worked on the Semester at Sea program, we hit rough weather (can you say typhoon?) three days into the ten-port voyage around the globe. As a result of damage to the ship, we were delayed going into several ports, which meant that in-country programs were altered or cancelled altogether. “I want my money back,” wailed one student. “We’re missing trips and that’s not fair,” he went further. “This isn’t the real Semester at Sea.” “Interesting perspective,” I replied. “but this is your Semester at Sea. This is the one you have, the only one, yours. There isn’t a more real one.”"

Yup. Ahoy, Mateys. Today it's a bumpy ride, but it's MY ride. Thanks for the perspective, Cap'n, and welcome aboard.