utterly reasonable weather, satisfying busy work, the news that i can end my internship early and move out here without rushing - clearly something awful is going to happen. i'd like to believe in unadulterated good fortune, but i've read too many books. beyond that, new york seems, even more than san francisco, to be a giveth / taketh away city.

thinking in the shower this morning about how i'll miss the ugly-ass clawfoot tub in our old place. in a terrible fit of something, the previous tenant painted it fifty-two different colors, most notably on the toes. it was big and comfy, though, and the lip was large enough that the cat could sit and swipe at my feet through the bath foam. and the cranky old green pantry, impossible to open, the amateur yellow living room that a generous friend called 'tuscan farmhouse-ish'...i've visited a lot of places, but i've only nested in two. i'm tempted to take an extra year in manhattan to justify another big settling-in. i guess we'll see if i can swing this office thing for so long, if i can keep the poetry going and tell myself that i needed more time for kick-ass drafts. it could work, but i haven't been back home since i started toying with leaving for good. nostalgia, she can be a gym sock of quarters to the head.

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