Cat Stevens - Don’t Be Shy
Happy weekend. This song seemed to fit for my afternoon.
Well I am off to move, just a few more boxes to pack up and cranny dust to sweep away. By this time tomorrow I will have a different house, my fifth in New York. I have been feeling a combination of nervous and excited about it for days, but all I can feel now is ready to go. Because in NYC, every move you make is a temporary situation until you have a mortgage, and if my grandfather taught me anything, it’s never to mistake the temporary for the permanent. I don’t even own any furniture really, and as an essayist I very much love noted, not owning even so much as an armoire in this town is somewhat common. We can all feel like squatters or nomads. For as much as most of us dreamed about it, this city may as well be made of marshmallow and sapphires, not an actual place to have a tomato garden or own a cookie sheet or a set of fine linens.
Still, I plan on baking and planting and buying a headboard. It’s illogical to start over every single time. It has to be possible to wander without losing much. And with that, I’m off, hands smelling like sour tape chemicals and stale cosmetics. I’m ready to start over, if just a little bit.