It’s been a while. When I started this, with the explicit purpose of saying more of the things in my head, I didn’t anticipate going nearly a month between posts. But it did, and a lot has happened since the end of May.
First and foremost, I’m moving. It’s the second time in a year. That probably sounds strange, and that’s probably because it is strange. It’s not a thing people tend to do. Then again, people tend to do the safest thing possible; a move is a block at the bottom of the pyramid, and afterward they’ll start to build to the top. Frankly, that’s how most actions present themselves: a build to the top. And when things start to look as though they’re being built almost belligerently, as if the architect is a drunk not realizing the fifth section can’t come before the third, everyone has a very fair reaction – “What the hell is he doing? Doesn’t he know that won’t work?”
But here’s the thing: shit happens.
In February, my landlord was in a car accident of his own. He’s had back problems for a few years, and now he has nerve damage. He hasn’t been able to work and doesn’t know if he’ll be able to go back. So, instead of moving to a bigger place for the space he and his family need, they’re taking over the duplex we both live in, and here we are.
I’m moving to South Philadelphia. It’s not something I saw myself doing, which is likely the most exciting thing about it. The timing isn’t enviable. I’ve got to move before I know where I’ll be working next year, so I can’t move based on proximity or convenience to my job. As such, I figured the best way to go about it was to base the move on convenience to things that aren’t my job, but about the possibilities within my personal life.
And here I am, sitting in a dark room, wide awake at 1am because I slept off a migraine for five hours, surrounded by my mostly not-packed stuff as I get ready to move in the next day or two. I know plenty of things I could be doing right now, but my body’s thrown off and I don’t have the focus for much. It’s like I’ve gone back in time to a night I was 16. Or, maybe more accurately, 19, because I’ve got The ’59 Sound from The Gaslight Anthem playing, which really makes me laugh. I feel like I’m in a night from at least half a decade ago, but I’m staring down the newest thing I’ve ever done. I’m not worried about it being built from the bottom up. I think it’s cool it’s coming together the way it is. It’s like past and present are high fiving.