new stuff

Already there are rituals, it hasn’t been, what?, a month (here) yet and what you’d call habits seem to be rituals to me. Beyond all the ‘stuff’ I arrived with. Here’s one – picking up the laptop off the sturdy blue little table I scored from a South Park sidewalk, lifting the Dell off that table and placing it on the end of the bed, prevention for safety and continued availability should I ever knock over the two coffee cups I’m going to set there so I can sit in the blue easy recliner under the glow of the gold floor lamp and read Ginsberg or a Surf Journal. Or tool around on my early-morning phone or peer into the pile of steno pads and legal pads and notebooks which have been guiding me since the day after the divorce conversation, just over seven months ago. It does not feel like a lifetime ago – it feels close – but, boy, has the geography of my life changed, like with a big bang, since April.

Including adding these new every day muscle memory rituals. In San Diego.