Clear Head in SF
This is the morning when I get to wake up in a very tiny hotel room all by myself. When I was checking in, they told me I could get an even smaller single, one that they’d recently converted from a closet, and it would cost me only half of what I was willing to pay already. I took the offer, because I don’t need as much room as I used to. It is as small as they told me. Enough room for a bed and a wardrobe that actually touches the foot of the bed. There’s enough space so that I can actually do a little bit of yoga by the side of the bed, if I put all my things on the bed. It works. This is working.
I haven’t had a drink in a few months now. It seems to suit me very well. The first part was rough, but they tell me that every part of it is rough, so I just have to keep myself in the day. This is a very good day to be in, however, because I am breathing, and I got to sleep through the night, and there’s nothing that I have to do. Later on, I’ll have a nice long meal at a restaurant on this site, but for now, I’m going to be frugal. Just one coffee with a double shot at Muddy Waters, and I can start seeing what San Francisco looks like.
Before all that, though, a meeting, where I can start my caffeine intake with coffee that’s much, much stronger than it looks, and some good stories from strangers that I already like. There are lots of opinions about what I should do when I’m here, and they’re all interesting, and some of them are even strange, but I have it in mind that City Lights will be a good destination, and a good place to get lost. There are books by every writer I’ve ever loved, and just to be sentimental I look through what they have on Kerouac. It’s good to hold his books while I’m here, especially now. I can feel sparks in this, and I hear sparks in this, and I think about all the things that have to line up just right so that things can turn on the wheel, to move the regret into the realm of the next right thing.
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