freedom and bondage

I have long been known for my slightly superhuman patience. I think often people confuse patience with calm, or serenity, or confidence. Frankly, I don't think any of these terms apply to me. I fall somewhere between "glutton for punishment" and "masochist", depending on the context, of course.
Take today, for example:
1. I woke up this morning inspired to get my motorcycle learner's permit. This meant I had to go to the DMV without an appointment, stand in line to get a number, take an unflattering picture, stand in another line, and take the written test. Though I'd studied the motorcycle handbook diligently, I'd failed to remember that I would also have to take a general knowledge test, which included the age/weight requirements for child safety restraints and the restrictions on trucks bearing hazardous materials. Then I had to wait in another line to have my tests corrected. After two hours of mild mental discomfort and some excruciating people watching, I left with my permit in hand.
2. From the DMV I went to the lab to start another round of Southern blotting. The last blot was tantalizing yet not definitive enough to justify sending off cells for blastocyst injection at three grand a pop. So I'm doing it again, and hoping I get better results before the weekend.
3. When I got home I had enough energy left for a little exercise, so I donned sneakers and iPod to hit the streets. I ought to have known within a block that: 1) the fog and wind were going to make it less than pleasant and 2) the inhaler ought to have gone along for the ride. I found I needed to jog a little more than I usually do just to keep the sweat warm on my body. Even so, I wound my way up and down the hills of my neighborhood, and managed to avoid the usual confrontation with the man with the two vicious Bichon Frisé in Huntington Park. When I came home I tried to do push-ups with Charlie swishing his tail in my face.
4. I finished the day on the phone with my brother, talking scooters and song lyrics ("We Miss You, Vanilla Ice" is Chrisser's band's latest song), drinking the too-sweet berry juice on sale at Cala, cut with the last of my Grey Goose.
5. Now I'm writing this silly blog, musing on being torn between freedom and bondage, between wanting things we'll never have and appreciating what's within easy reach. To me, freedom is the right to recklessly pursue the unattainable, even if it's illogical and in the end, disheartening. Bondage? That's what one perceives when accepting the constraints and realities of one's life -- there can be a comfort and security in bondage that one never feels in freedom. In this scheme of life, many people find it impossible to discover happiness. Perhaps it's those of us who lean in one direction or the other that find it happiness easier to achieve.