my life should be lived. as though it were a meal prepared for those I hold dearest. and so it is. only right that I keep laboring in this hot kitchen. but no bitterness. not for you, darling. for you I offer only sweetness. and salty love. the salt of love. love without weakness.
Blue skies from Los Angeles to Seattle with return. Stepping into my apartment (it was still there) for the first time since the course I was struck at how luxurious it seemed. I thought I was living quite modestly. I still have more than I need.
As of today I even have heat. I turned it on only to be greeted by a cloud of smoke - the burning of at least a year's worth of dust. I was, of course, already in the shower when this happened, smoke alarm and all. Curses. I am now at the considerably less warm Cow's End for coffee and clean(er) air.
Though my apartment remains intact everything has changed. I'm resisting the urge to revert to the same habits which made it the place it was before. I have a choice now I didn't when I left to try something different. I'd like to take advantage of that. Today I decide what form these efforts will take.