Today is beautiful, and I woke up to find out that my plans for the day were later than expected, meaning that I was conscious early. (Only the French would start a garage sale at 2 in the afternoon on a Saturday.) Faced with the choice between wallowing in my stuffy dirty apartment, attempting to clean said apartment, and dragging myself out of the apartment early to enjoy the sunshine, I chose to throw some things into my long-neglected Google messenger bag (including the tablet PC I am currently typing this on) and leave.
Now I'm sitting in Ritual Coffee on Mission Street, surrounded by San Francisco. Surrounded by about ten iMacs, a scattering of eyebrow-pierced lesbians, and a lot of hipster guys wearing glasses and t-shirt hoodies.
This is the normal. I'm trying to take a picture of it, but it's not working out for me quite. Bad angle. As you can see.
The sky rained down on us last week, and this week it rained in a different sort of way. I'm definitely back on the uptick of this roller coaster.
It's funny. Now that I've kind of stopped caring about this town, and stopped trying to get something out of it, it's finally stopped kicking me in the ribs and started to provide a little. Perhaps that's the way to live in any city, in any town: don't try to grab onto what you can get from it. Let it all come to you. Or maybe just don't have expectations. (I think RuPaul said something like that on Season 2 of Drag Race.) (And yeah, I just admitted I watched a season of that show. Hey, it was on Netflix.)
Okay, time for me to go pick up a bun at King's Bakery -- I'm actually going to try to tackle the 7x7 Big Eat this year, as much as I can afford -- and head over to that garage sale. I'll be late at this point, but for the French I'll still be early.