Calene had a CT scan on Thursday. You know your world is surreal when CT scans and PET scans are business as usual. I have become a waiting room connoisseur, knowing which have the best chairs and plugs for my laptop. We were running a little late so I dropped Calene off and went to park. By the time I got to the imaging center they'd already taken her back. I sat down and began to write. It was just me and some other guy across the room who was speaking loudly into his phone, using a foreign language I did not understand. I have been blessed with the ability to write anywhere, shutting out distractions as if they didn't exist. I credit being a detached introvert for this skill set.
The guy keeps talking and I realize he's working on his Duolingo lesson, which is odd because learning a foreign language is a humbling experience. You'd think he'd want some privacy. The words don't have magic and the accent isn't quite right. One other time, in a different waiting room, a woman began face-timing in Chinese right across from me. It was very clear which language she was speaking.
Not so with this guy. I thought it was a sub-Saharan dialect and then maybe Portuguese. No idea. When he finished with that, he began calling tennis pro shops (in English) searching for a new racquet. No attempt to hush his voice. Just regular conversational tone. even a touch of indignation. This went on for the duration of Callie's scan. We left him there, still on the phone. He may be there still for all I know.
Normally, a scene like this is so extraordinary that it overshadows the rest of the week. But this week has been one for the ages. There were the minor moments, like submitting my new book proposal and nervously awaiting the response. The upsetting: my Packers blew a huge lead last night to the hated Bears. The absurd: that stunning revelation that Capitol police were actually behind the January 6 insurrection (who knew?) not the noose-toting rioters who are now suing for improper arrest. The tragic: a man in a face mask shooting a Minneapolis woman in the head then calmly getting into a van and driving away. No arrest was made and no charges filed. And, of course, the mysterious: those files detailing years of pedophilia that absolutely no one talked about this week as the distractions pile up.
So my time in the waiting room with the Duolingo guy was actually a great shining moment of needed comic relief. Springsteen hasn't announced tour dates for 2026 so I cope with my raging anxiety by reminding myself I have a new book coming out soon. That's a really good feeling. I work out, spend time in nature, take many many many deep breaths. I coach, which centers me. And I wonder where the panic comes from. Then I remember it's all around me, every moment, all week long. Not even a detached introvert is immune.