I woke up this morning convinced it was Monday.
I was so convinced that today was Monday, that it’s 3 hours later and still I feel I’m late for work.
*******
So, moving day is this Thursday.
I’m about 75% ready.
At this point, that will have to do.
*******
Yesterday I took my faux Greek flokati rug, my writing laptop, and a solitary mug with a single ginger-turmeric tea package …
And sat outside at the new place for about an hour.
On the concrete floor.
In the morning sun.
Watching and listening to this new World’s sounds.
*******
It’s wild up there.
A near perfect half and half of ugly and magical.
It’s a sea of crazy industrial rooftops below … that seamlessly blend into the widest most unobstructed east-to-west sky view I have ever seen in any city I have ever lived.
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I’m giddy to see my first sunset, my first storm and wake up to my first sunrise.
And, believe it or not, I’m just as game to learn about old brick buildings, HVAC units on roofs and what that orange crane is making to the left.
*******
This will be move number 24.
I had it in my head that is was more than that. Which makes 24 a drop in the bucket when I thought my nomadic lifestyle was over 30.
After checking the math thrice, 24 it be.
Another place. Another story.
I know not of any other way.
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24 and me.
Let’s see what this is all about, shall we?
Happy Sunday.