Stuck between stations

The music of life is playing.
And I find myself…
Stuck between stations.
It’s a momentary lapse, like I should have a thought balloon above me that says, “Experiencing technical difficulties, please stand by.”
It’s the static between stations where I find myself (or within the past 24 hours).
The antennae have been pulled in, and I have not been receiving a constant signal.
The root causes are many:

• My arm hurts. It doesn’t hurt in an “I am in constant pain, please put me down with a compassionate bullet to the brain,” but a nagging ache that simply is driving me nuts. Stevo wants to excise the tendinitis with physical therapy, which I am doing. But a big, ol’ needle full of cortisone sure would be faster. Ever see the movie “North Dallas Forty?” I’m the Phil Elliot character, who will do anything to get on the field – including the use of big, nasty-ass needles. Stevo is the rookie Deltha, who looks for a holistic approach to keep his body pure and functioning. What Stevo is doing for me I can never fully repay. I just have to put in the time, ice and rest, and let this one go.
  
• The weather (at least on Monday). I’m supposed to be in training to climb Mt. Shasta in June. When I needed to train, it was pouring down rain (and yes, I could have done it with rain gear, but then there’s the issue of cleaning up and getting back to work). When the clouds broke and the day became gorgeous, I was stuck in editing hell. I never did get out (because, in the end, I did't make myself get out).
• Inadvertently, I may have caused friction between two sets of friends. I didn’t mean to do so, but maybe this needed to happen. I thought about this long and hard throughout the night, and stand by something that I need to stand by (and others need to hear): I stand by everything I write on Surface Tension. And everyone else who blogs should stand by their statements as well. Self-censorship is the first step toward losing one’s essence and freedom.
• I’ve got a cash-flow problem and I’m stressed over money. Yes, I know that worrying about this is bullshit, but it creeps in. Especially when there’s other things swirling (“Hey, why not worry about money, too, ThomG? Really give yourself a fucking ulcer.”)
• I read something Monday that pissed me off by someone who used to be very close to me. But I thought about this one, too, and decided that in times of crisis and adversity, it is possible to find rewards. So I let this one go.

I ended up not receiving any signals Monday evening. It’s like I was in the meat-eating robot’s cave (and he wasn’t there to smack me in the ass).
No one was there to smack me in the ass.
So I just didn’t receive outside stimuli.
(Don’t adjust your ThomG, he’ll be back in short-order).
The signal, while faint - and I’m trying to adjust it to one clear channel - is back.
The sun is shining.
A friend invited me to lunch.
I will get a workout in.
Things have a way of working themselves out among friends - especially people who have such closely-tied interests (and maintain a friendship with a fuckstick like me).
And that wry smile on my face just now?
The last six songs that shuffle-played on the iPod were all songs that have meant something to me at certain times in my life.
The signal is clearing.