Two weeks ago I pulled into a swanky hotel in downtown Seattle with my 2 dogs and a car full of stuff and a head full of dreams. Here I now sit in my studio apartment, with smart storage spaces maximized (the joys of going from 1,400 square feet to 600), still no idea where I’m going to put all my kitchen stuff, and a great feeling of accomplishment because today I finally found my blender, so now I can make a decent protein shake. Ah, but for what? When was the last time I worked out? Does unpacking count as a workout? Or does it count that I only drive my car one or two days a week?
I love this city. Here I am, alone for the most part, with less friends in this city than I can count on one hand, but I feel very very happy. I have a 5 minute commute (walking) and I live downtown, yet enough on the border to not be annoyed by constant tourists, sirens, beggars (sorry!), protesters, and political activists. I do miss my friends, but at the same time I feel a selfish satisfaction knowing that all my time is my own. Not that is ever wasn’t, but I really follow whatever whim I desire right now. I met the most wonderful, awesome, amazing guy in the world, and lucky for me, he’s crazy about me, and yet he understands that I need my own time too. Finally, after all these years, perhaps I’ve found someone who gets it. Like I said, I miss my friends – I miss the Friday lunches filled with inappropriate jokes and laughter. Fridays aren’t the same without 20 plus emails arguing about where to go to eat. I miss Sundays at Nancy’s house and convincing her to drink a bottle of sweet wine with me, then taking goofy pictures of the dogs. I still yearn to find that place where I can go and be alone, yet with friends. In Vegas it was the bar by my house, where I got just enough social interaction, but still enough alone time. With time I’ll find it.
A huge, important part of my life is missing right now though, and that is my nutrition and fitness routine. I’ve yet to prepare a meal in my new place – the adoption of a smaller kitchen is much more difficult than I thought it would be. I think I’m going on a month of other people preparing my food now, and it’s making me crazy. Just last night I finally located my gym and running shoes (hooray!) and a huge part of me wants to blow off my 7 AM meeting tomorrow so I can go for a run in the crisp cool air over by the lake. Has it really been over a month since I experienced the joy of being on my bike? Or the meditative, soothing hour of lap swimming? It has, and that’s ok. But I really want to get back. I figure I need another few days to unpack, organize, and get everything straightened out, and by next week I can be on my routine again.
That’s all I have to report, happiness, a twinge of homesickness, a ton of smitten-ness, and not much active-ness. Greetings from the Emerald City.