For the past two weeks, for each good thing that has happened to me, approximately 3-17 bad or unlucky things have happened. It's a wonder I'm even standing, but I just tripped on the corner of 10th Ave & 49th and twisted my ankle, so I may not be standing for long.
I'm not so much worried about the future, as I am anticipatory of it. I want to fast forward to the next scene. In which I'm what? Riding a bicycle? Living in California? A person with long hair? Somewhere less humid. To make me feel better, Julia once said, "Don't worry. Soon you'll be pregnant and famous."
Harley the dog woke me at 6am. I resent that, but it's also nice to be out so early in the morning. The breeze from the river stirring the smells of the trash on the curb, a man asleep beside an open crate of mangoes, the metal accordion gates coming up.