I found myself trying to explain my tendency to have multiple lives all at once the other day. I normally have trouble because I explain the explanations with more stories. Without a solid footing, it was hopeless.

Now I sit, watching the birds, thinking about the trees, considering a walk. After I work my way upstairs for some socks. In a few days I will be back in Seattle, where outside of sleeping, I am rarely home. Where I always eat at bars and ride a bicycle through industrial alleys every day. The pace.

I think a lot about pointing a wireless link at the mountain and turning the spare room into an office. I could work from here and those times I get anxious in the office could instead be walks among the trees. As time goes on, the part of me that talked to L a year ago about how much of me was still waiting for a partner shrinks and fades. I’m not as worried anymore about waiting. I’m not as worried about what I’ll miss out on. I feel like that should be more of a shame than it is.

hmm.