My only sources of peace lately have come from two sources. The first is the feeling of a late night crawl into my side of a warm bed after a late night hacking session. The second is driving in a car along the Pacific Ocean.

I hate driving long distances, or at least I hated driving long distances. No further than Myrtle Beach was my general limit, self-imposed of course. I think the cross country road trip that I did summer of 2007 cured me of that antsiness and boredom. I really only fell in love with this country after I saw it from the the road. And now the road is my major source of peace…

Case in point. I drove down fo Monterey this past Wednesday, and experienced an entirely calm and relaxed day. In fact, we went to the CVS around midnight to get some bottled water, and I went by the pharmacy to check out my blood pressure. The reading was 117/67 with a heart beat of 65 bpm. In San Francisco, I’m a borderline hypertensive on my way to pill boxes with the days labeled to make sure I don’t miss my meds. After a day on the road I’m healthy, relaxed and, ultimately, at peace.

I’m really worried about this inability to find peace outside of the road. I can’t find a way to wind down, and it’s really leading to a situation where I’m fighting against everything just to get some breathing room. It doesn’t help that I live with someone with whom I work, but that would be an excuse, and entirely unfair to Micky. I had this problem when I lived alone, but was only two blocks away from work as well, and discovered that turning those two blocks into ten went a long way towards getting me straightened out this past spring.

Something about the mindlessness of getting home is what I’m missing now. I hypothesize that being more of a regular at the gym early in the mornings will help with this. The goal there is finding a better outlet for whatever angst I’m experiencing. So far, I think, so good. If that doesn’t help, I’ll need to find something else to replace the peace which is an open highway and the Pacific off to the side crashing against the cliffs and beaches of California’s awkward coast line.

Until then though I’ll keep getting my freedom for $3 per gallon over one windy stretch of CA-1 after another.