I am hooked. It might not look like it since I'm not jumping out of planes or anything, but doing things like live theatre gave me a rush every show. With my rib-cage injury, I haven't been able to do very much that would get my adrenaline going. I haven't been doing shows. No sports. I can't go swing dancing. I can't even run. Traveling and driving hurts, so no hopping on a motorcycle. I couldn't figure out what I could do that would give me a rush.
Turns out what I needed was some patience. And an Arctic blast. The first snow came when I was petsitting in West Seattle, the highest elevation in the city. And I was to drive home 20 miles that day. And the place I was staying at was on a hill.
The cross street was another hill, but also a main road. However they had closed it to traffic. It was actually closed before you get to their street.
I'm not that familar with West Seattle streets, so I couldn't even calculate how to avoid most hills or which streets are the most traveled and therefore safest ones to take. I was a bit worried...for about two blocks. Then I realized: this could be exciting... This could be a RUSH! My worries and tension immediately disappeared and I let out a "Woohoo!" (and there might have been a "yipee ki-ay motherfucker!" in there, too).
Fate was on my side. I had put on two new front tires on the '88 Camry the day before. I just dropped her down into 2nd and was on my way. And felt a little righteous when I drove passed some trucks and SUVs that were either sliding or spinning I made it through just fine.
When the snow came again a few days later, once again there was excitement. Taking the bus to work was a carnival thrill ride. And you never knew where the last stop would be...
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