Slowing Down

I was sitting on my bed, looking out my window, listening to the gospel and R&B music bouncing off the cement walls whose origination is indeterminate, and I realized that I have nothing to do.  Nothing at all.

Then I felt around the side of my bed for my Klean Kanteen wannabe water bottle to help ward off the perpetual sticky feeling humidity on the east coast gives you and realized that it was in its place.  My water bottle was in the exact spot it was supposed to be.  My fan has found the perfect home between my door and my chocolate-colored, Ikea Malm full-sized bed so that it circulates the air perfectly...and when what we'll consider a "breeze" (let's face it, this is New York, I don't want to know where that wind is coming from) comes through my window the room stays about ten degrees cooler than it is outside.  Then I thought, "Gosh, I should change the sheets on my bed."  Then, because I get my slightly-OCD, slippery-slope cleaning habits from my neat-freak mother, I decided it was about time to take out the trash that's in the opposite corner of the room from where I am.  It's currently under the ironing board that needs to be relocated to my closet.

And what did I think?

I really live here.

I have crap I need to worry about now.  Domestic duties.  I need to bust out some housewife skills.

My home is really starting to feel like *gasp!* a home.

I've wandered various neighborhoods in Brooklyn and Manhattan.  I've done my laundry a couple times.  Last night we had a dinner party where I actually had friends to call and invite over.  Ok, ok...a lot of them were SMC people but - hey! - they're friends that live here.  I've been on a couple dates and learned what is socially acceptable when you're on one in New York.  I've spent significant time trying to perfect my subway stare to ward off the creepers that always happen to sit across from you and drill their gaze into your face.  I know that late in the afternoon on Saturdays I'll be listening to prayers and closing hymns from the Baptist church around the corner.  After that I get to turn my iTunes off and listen to the music from an apartment nearby.  A minute ago the music changed to funk music which perfectly fits our neighborhood.  The only thing more perfect would be if they were playing Beyonce because her songs seem to be anthems for the part of Bed-Stuy (which is a neighborhood in Brooklyn - clarified for my lovely Californians) that we live in.  If you stand on the corner during the afternoon then you'll notice about 90% of the cars that drive by are blasting one of her singles.

The "job situation" that everyone keeps asking me about with such trepidation that one would think someone died is still open but I try to keep some structure in my life by waking up early, making sure to cook most of my meals, clean dishes when the sink is full, and other random things that make people feel useful and that their day has not been wasted.  I maneuver through the city to different interviews and know when it's useless to take the subway because walking will get you there faster.  I know which markets to go to and how to get there - the bus to downtown Brooklyn for Trader Joe's, the subway to Union Square for Whole Foods, the subway to a little Puerto Rico area for the best Mexican market, or I can always walk to the deli or Key Market down the street for small things (only when it's light out, of course, since our neighborhood doesn't necessarily make a lonely, white-looking girl feel overly safe at night).

This is the first day since April that I have had nothing to do all day long.  Well, more or less...my SMC friend, Alex Branch, was visiting so we went to hipster town (Williamsburg - another part of Brooklyn known for how it is inhabited solely by 20- and 30-something year olds that just walked out of Urban Outfitters catalogs) for some takeout brunch and people-watched on someone's steps while we ate our Polish breakfast sandwich and blintzes.  But that doesn't really count.  We even drove so that definitely doesn't count as a "real" day in NYC.  Not many people own cars here.

But I have shit to do.  I need to make my bed!  Or, rather, I'll just sit here and look at it because it's 8:15pm...no use in making it when I'm going to mess it up in a couple hours anyway, right?

My life is starting to build itself again.  I feel as if I've been running for miles and the last couple weeks I was at that stage where you are slowing down to a walking pace.  Now, I'm walking and convincing myself to start running again.  Let's go!  Let's get this show on the road!  Or, even better: Let's get this life on the road!

It's 8:30pm now and I have nothing to do except for these domestic duties that I mentioned.  And who wants to do those at this point on a Saturday?  I'm going to keep sitting here and listening to the free funk music  while I ignore my chores.