As I type up “Awakenings Reckoning”, I, of course, reference my writings of old. I collect much of these updated drafts inside a thick light blue portfolio. Currently there were 40 pages I was reviewing ahead of time while typing the current drafts.
One day, as I was leaving work in the late evening, an employee at my job stated she wanted to buy two books the following week from me; one book would be for her son has a holiday present. I was so elated about this sale that, while loading my other items into my vehicle, I left my blue portfolio on my car’s trunk as I left from work
Let me repeat: I left my portfolio on my car’s trunk as I left from work!! My portfolio entailing 40 pages of very old writings and the page I was currently typing!! I didn’t acknowledge this mishap until after I arrived home 45” to an hour later. By this time, I was already frantic about this tumultuous realization.
Immediately, I threw everything back into the car, jumped in, and zoomed back through horrible Los Angeles traffic trying to return to my missing paperwork. As I whipped through the challenging bustling traffic, scrambling past impish detours, screaming all the way, over 30 years of writing were whipping past my thoughts fraught with disillusionment. The closer and closer I arrived to my work campus, the greater my tachycardia became. Two to three blocks towards the back entrance, my thumbs kept drumming and drumming upon my steering wheel as I screamed, “Get outta the way!” to any metallic obstruction. Once I rolled onto the darkened campus, I turned on my high beams as my eyes kept shifting side-to-side searching for anything.
And…. there at the exit street’s intersection, a block from the entrance’s traffic light, like a portal opening into the underworld, my blue portfolio laid spattered with remnants of that portal, a few of my sheets and notes, that had fallen victim to any form of kinetic energy. Like a banshee, I jumped out of my car with an outstretched palm directed at the car behind me as I gathered some of my “missing children”, “Stop!!”
I crumpled the initial victims of my carelessness into the folder and quickly surveyed my surroundings to the thudding beat of dance music bursting from my car. Up and down the intersections’ lengths the 40 pages were strewn. Fortunate for me, most of the aged documents were scattered throughout the exit street. Tire marks graced the yellowing manuscripts, road relief punctuated the faded pencil and multiple colored inks, and moisture assisted in tattering some of the scrunched documents further to the point of unrecognizability. I jumped back into my vehicle sorting through the wrinkled mess when I heard a knocking upon my car window.
An older man answered through the halfway rolled down glass, “Since you’re looking for all that paperwork, I just thought I’d tell you there’s some by the traffic light up the road. Good luck!!”
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! With flashlight on hand and a new direction for my high beams to uncover, I dashed back up the exit street towards the traffic light to find more sheets hugging the gutters waiting patiently for me to pick them up. In the end, after nearly 2 hours of searching I was able to retrieve all my paperwork, except, the 4 post-its pasted onto my folder’s interior.
Seriously?!? They were post-its!!
Moral of the story: Don’t give up on your dreams. Fight tooth and nail to make it real despite the obstacles.