This week flew by.
New York City is flying by. Plans for the end of the month are made. Boston is fast approaching. The weather was gorgeous today, breezy into a light, beautiful, grey rain.
Fall is fast on our heels.
My heart keeps beating, constant and lonely. I’m leaking loneliness and pleasure in 4/4 time.
I worked at a Farmer’s Market. I ate lots of pie. Too much pie. Free shots of Jameson. A drunk yogi adjusted my shoulders and I’ve felt great ever since. The High Line. We walked the Met. The Devil Wears Prada. Catfish. The sacred and the profane, but mostly the mundane. It’s shocking how ordinary and beautiful each day is.
I’m trying to remember everything.
My friends are anchors, in constant contact, updating me on their accomplishments, their falls, and their day to day. I’m proud of the people in my life. I’m honored to know them, and to be cared for by them.
I cannot wait to see them in time. In each city. In each home.
I’m trying to imagine what this looks like six months from now.
I’m trying to imagine next year.
I cook beans and rice in a daydream.
I chop veggies and blink away the onions and the fears.
I wish I could say more.
I think of Ferris Bueller.
And it’s true.
I love you. I miss you. I hope to see you soon.