baavgai: (Default)
( Mar. 29th, 2006 02:32 pm)
Ever have one of those days when the intuition radar is cranked to max?

I have them a couple of times a year. On such days I often get a strong feeling to break routine in some way. Common place is marked by absurd coincidence with a dash of extra strangeness. Today feels like such a day.

It starts out unremarkably; I need to get gas before I can make it to work. I debate whether to go to the usual place or the alternate. That this even comes to me is odd, the alternate is for those times when I'm on the highway and realize too late that I need fuel. I can't convince myself logically why I shouldn't use the usual place, so I head that way.

Two blocks from the house, I square the block and head for the other place. No reason, it just feels right. When I get there, I start to pull out some money. As the petrol begins to flow, I choose 23 dollars. I have more, but what I'm looking at seems absolutely correct. The tab is exactly 23 dollars. The little hairs that aren't twitching on the back of my neck start. Definitely one of those days.

The drive is uneventful, though it seems too sharply in focus. When I get close to the work it hits me. A smell of acetone so strong it makes my skin prickle. I feel like I'm huffing a menthol cigarette without the tobacco smoke. Airways begin to contract and I have to fight a panicky feeling. This road was blocked yesterday. Was where a spill, a cleanup? Can cars make an acetone smell? The smell is damn strong and the idea fixes itself in my mind that I should go home early, to avoid this in the future.

My stomach is rolling by the time I get to work, though the smell has abated. Hell, I'll take half a sick day. As the morning wears on my rational mind tries to talk me out of leaving early. It ultimately suggests just leaving an hour early to have the car checked. A feeling of needing to take a half day reasserts itself, strongly.

Such feelings are usually whispers, barely heard and easily dismissed, if even noticed. On days like this, the barest whisper seems almost as strong as the rest of the internal dialog, though it lacks words. The noontime drive home is unexciting, a beautiful clear crisp day that makes me think of 9/11/2001.

Am I totally freaking nuts? Time to light the incense, can everyone give me an om? I don't know.

I do know that I've missed some nasty stuff when I do things like this, but sometimes there's nothing at all. If you managed to not be in the wrong place at the wrong time, you'd never really know, after all.
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