And I think it's because I think of it too much. Last night in class we had a 10-minute "free write", where we simply wrote about anything we wanted. I realized that that's exactly what needs to happen here. When I started this blog (btw, happy belated birthday - it's a whopping 8 years old, not counting some blogger.com crap, nor previous websites/domains), I would simply open a browser, start an entry, write whatever I wanted to write, and publish it. Granted, the first entries weren't all too thrilling - mostly stuff about being bored at work. Surprise, entries from a mere 3 years ago were pretty much the same - hah!
I've had a couple of pretty awesome and introspective entries rattling about in my brain that I write typically while walking around. Here's one of them:
Every morning, on the way to work, I walk by three specific scents. The first is the ever-present bread baking of Ken's Artisan Bakery, its bakers delivering loaves to cooling racks in the front window as my mouth waters, and I stroll by. The second is doughnuts, fresh from the fryer at Coco next to the PGE Park MAX station; I've never been in there, but I've heard they're tasty. The third, and the one that really gets my stomach growling, is the scent from a Mexican food cart on 12th and Yamhill. The family who owns the cart arrive early in the morning to do the day's prep work, and cook the carnitas and beans all morning. As I pass that parking lot, and walk across the street towards the library, I'm glad my office is only a few more blocks away, though oatmeal with a banana is a horrible substitute for such tasty vittles.
I'm going to miss living in Nob Hill. Being so near downtown, and in the midst of a fantastically walkable neighborhood has definitely spoiled me. I'm not used to taking the bus any more, and the stop and go of traffic makes me nauseous. I am looking forward to not having to worry about the cats and if I remembered to feed them that day, or if they're getting lonely without me. I hope the transition to living in a dog-friendly house is filled with little blood and gore. O hope the wedding comes together, and please, please, please, let the damned Timbers schedule come out already to I can go on with the planning...
