The Upside of Insomnia

This morning, I awoke far too early after falling asleep far too late. A morning appointment required me to grab parking at the metro by 7:30, so no chance for a snooze once the sun elbowed my lids open. At 7:15, my little Saturn chugged its way into an indoor spot at the Vienna station. Next would come sitting in a bus shelter for the better part of half an hour waiting for the Fairfax 462. I considered the plexiglass shelter. Mellow morning light filtered down, a floppy hat rested on my head, and sneakers hugged my feet.

This gal ain't built for sitting.

But how to get where I needed to go?

Hoofing it to Merrifield from the Vienna metro requires some fancy mapping. Alas, I was map-less. I was also too tired to think much about the route. I simply pointed myself in a general southeast direction and began walking.

A little over an hour to travel. . . how far? Not quite sure. A few miles stretch between the metro and my destination. Those roads somehow move over (or under?) I-66 and along congested Lee Highway. Between noisy highway and peaceful neighborhood, a crossroads greeted me. Freeway walking is neither appealing nor legal, not even in the Commonwealth of Virginia. The tree-lined sidewalks of Vienna invite a good stroll, so I parted the leaf canopy into an unknown zip code and walked on.

Sidewalks, of course, live next to streets. Cars use streets to navigate between the quaint post-war homes and the assorted services of surrounding Fairfax county. For this reason, one would think it would be possible to find a way out once entering such a neighborhood.

Hah.

I walked and walked. I walked down one cul-de-sac after another, found one dead-end sign after another. The faint rumble of the interstate accompanied me. Every so often, a barrier wall rose like a cliff face from the lush green of a back yard. Somehow, I had to cross that mammoth road to make my appointment. I kept checking the stretch ahead, south and east, for some break or path or side-street. Nothing appeared but fence and obstacle.

I walked on.

The hands of my watch made their own persistent progress.

Dripping with sweat, feet loyally plodding, I ignored another "no thru street" sign and forged ahead. At the bottom of a hill, I stumbled upon a park. Behind chain-link, a narrow trail ringed a ball-field. It carried me past thick brush while presenting no way out. I kept my eye to the east and south.

Around a bend, without warning, the way offered itself up to me.

Slipping easily from one neighborhood to another, I found myself a half mile from a major road. A few more turns, and I was crossing an overpass as the gleaming congestion of I-66 groaned below. Hot and happy, I walked into the building at exactly 8:29. One minute was just enough for a slug of water and a pat-down with paper towels before my appointment.

Sleep deprivation can turn a person into a bully, a wimp, or a fool. I choose the third. Exhaustion impedes the judgment but it need not choke the spirit. A wiser, better-rested person could say, "You need to clear your head, consult a map, develop contingencies." But a clear head has a way of thinking itself out of foolish impulses. And what is gumption if not the better part of folly? No one should postpone an adventure for want of proper plans. 

Maps are less important than destinations. Choose a direction of travel. The road will guide your feet.