Pulling Off Route 66

 

 

As an eternally reluctant driver, my M.O. on expressways is: make note of all the exits! You know, just in case the road starts to ice over (never mind that it’s August), or there’s a sudden deluge or high wind or thick fog or darkness falls or…

 

Mind you, I never visualize exactly what I’d DO once I got to the end of the exit ramp; if the road conditions were dire enough, I’d consider moving permanently to Exit 343B (“if you lived here, you’d be home now!” to quote those chirpy billboards.) After all, who needs anything more than three gas stations and a Pizza City, right? 

 

On Friday, I’ll officially be pulling off “Route 66,” as I’ve thought of the past year of my life. Recently retired, zipping along for the most part, writing and getting published a good bit. It’s been a pretty smooth ride, and I’d love to just stay here forever. 

 

But alas!! The road ahead is ending, abruptly, and I’m being detoured onto Route 67. Not yet sure what to expect on this new highway; I sure hope at least there’s a Pizza City. Will 67 be a twisty-turny mountain road? Will there be scary suspension bridges to drive across? How about the traffic situation? In other words, will I have more essays declined than accepted? Will the editors I love to work with leave their publications, or “ghost” me? Will I be scooped by legions of more talented writers, and pushed right out of the market?

 

Those are just my writerly fears! Add to them my myriad worries about health (physical and mental), finances, family and friends, this perilous world of ours. Understandably, I’m quite concerned about my path for the next 365 days. Oh, and let’s not forget my fun getting older "look"! Years ago, I wrote a piece about the age spots that were already on my hands when Julie was still in elementary school. I haven’t noticed them of late, perhaps because there are now so many that they’ve morphed into one gigantic spot. And ah! the irony of a metabolism that has slowed to a crawl just in time for the rapid speeding up of the aging process!! 

 

But I am cheered by reading more about “67,” even though it lacks a peppy song. According to numerology, 67 is an Angel Number, with the energy of numbers 6 AND 7. 6 signifies home, family, love, harmony and balance. 7 signifies spirituality, introspection, intuition, wisdom and analysis.

 

The “angel” part? Well, seems my personal angel has been sending me many messages, all containing “67.” I just haven’t been looking hard enough! 

Time to pay attention, Elise! There are 67 chapters in the book I’m reading! 67 ingredients in my “healthy” yogurt! 67 gray hairs on my head (as long as I stop counting at 67). Hints and nudges abound! 

I think I’m ready to take a spin on my thrilling new roadway. My angel awaits!

She's probably in Pizza City.

Me, on Route 1!