Day 836 without a working bathroom.
All right, all right, it’s only day eight. Still, it feels like 836. And is evidenced by all the dirty laundry I have been lugging around on the subway, we are officially living like nomads, depending on the kindness of our friend and said friend’s blowup mattress. It’s all about getting through the workweek, until we can pack up and head upstate to Smallpeace.
But there has been progress. While we’ve been delivered the disappointing news that we won’t be getting a new bathtub—a standup shower will have to do—we’ve been given free rein to choose our floor tile. For those of you who have never experienced the restrictions of living in a rent-stabilized apartment, this is BIG! So we’ve gone hog wild and chose an old-world, white hexagonal Daltile with black accents. So classic they had to approve!
Meanwhile, on my new walk to work this morning, from our temporary digs in the East Village, I allowed myself to linger at Astor Place, taking in the fluorescent colors of the Flaming Cactus installation by the Animus Art Collective. Don’t you just want to run your fingers through those plastic ties?
Something about taking that extra moment reminded of a quote by Pema Chödrön:
“To be fully alive, fully human, and completely awake is to be continually thrown out of the nest.”
Ugh, I thought, I’m so pathetically unenlightened. And then I turned and saw this little sign of encouragement…
How cool is that?! xo M