The last few days have  been rather odd. I had an interview last week and it seems to have been the last moment in a rather long stretch of work-related hysteria. Well, hysteria isn’t really the right word, as it implies something about being female that I don’t really intend. Is there a word for the frenetic behavioural state that results – from and in – a confusion or misplacement of purpose that doesn’t imply a gendered response but only a human one?

I don’t know the results of the interview yet, and frankly, dear….

The thing is that I really don’t.  It’s as if the interview, at the tail end of a divisive, team-shattering process, has reset some sort of inner target in my head.

And that realization made me think about how I have been in these last 50 some odd years.

It’s as if  I have a free floating targeting device in my head.  For example: moving along, a good day at the university, driving a well-loved country road, my mind just floating. Then – blip – focus – as it notices the signs of deer – drive – float – blip – focus – the condition of the tulee in the pocket wetland – drive – float – blip – focus – new plants in the white farmhouse bed in a yard – drive, float and then these two young men. Focus. They are driving what is probably their mother’s car, decide to slow down on the road in front of me. I slow down. They go even slower. I am very close to them now and the driver turns his head to the passenger and grins. And slows even more. So I pull out to pass and he speeds up and pulls in front of me.

The target snaps in place. I back down behind him and then the grin again. What happens next is that I run them off the road. The flash of terror on the driver’s face was gratifying.

I feel the hormonal rush for a little while but the target just unmoors and goes back to floating. Waiting for the next environmental trigger.

It’s not just anger that triggers the lock but it is a useful feeling. I am going to court in the next week on behalf of a young, deaf, Native American girl to protect her from persons who do not have her best interests in mind.

I’ll drive days when I am locked onto some specific case or project.

I’ll get in my car at 10 PM to drive 8 hours to get a niece who feels at risk. I’ll  find out a friend is in need, drop everything, drive across country to help.

Not good things, not bad things, just the effect of the targeting thing in my head.

The problem is not the feelings or the targeting aspect of my mind, but that I have so little control over what they seem to lock onto – some things that do matter, things that don’t really matter, things better left alone.

Better for me, if I could say – “hey you, lock on there.” The things my mind finds of critical importance are sometimes really odd.

Imagine if I could control the lock-on, if I was as imp0rtant to me as that young girl?

Stars! I would be fierce in my own defense.

Radical thought.