I spent this morning chasing my coffee cup around the apartment.
Which is to say I spent an hour on the phone with Time Warner and then decided that I have to cultivate the skills my mothers so gracefully possesses and figure out how to organize and keep track of and learn to love file folders.
This is such a specific time in my life: chasing a coffee cup around the apartment. Setting it down before setting off to find the internet passcode before then wondering where the hell I just put the mug. This is such a luxurious problem to have, I know that, I can see that.
Things will change.
I have to remind myself of this. Often.
Just the other day, leaving work, I pushed through the turnstile to the F train and thought, I know it won't always be this. I won't always be 27 at a job that, while I'm extremely grateful for, is not the goal. I won't always live here in this tiny flat, alone. But oh, how this moment in time feels like it will stretch out forever.
I sobbed on the phone to my mother today.
I am ready for the next. But how does one get to the next? It is the getting there that I'm struggling with. Much as I now know where I want to go (which, man, I never thought I'd get there) it seems like there's a mountain before me and I don't know how to get over it.
And my smoke alarm's going off. So, I've got to go take care of that. (I'm making my baked potato {veggie #1 of 3 for this week's weekly wellness challenge}).