It's nearly August

I am sleeping on a floor without a futon, windows full of sun to the east each morning. It's hard to get out of bed before 11am when you are just then adjusting to a good level of comfort on the thermarest and the mummy bag and you didn't get back from work until 11pm, the next day starting 14 hours later. It's like the dial of your daily life gets turned clockwise about 4 hours, and there is no time to write. But I lay in this room sucking sleep from the waning morning long enough to feel like the potential of Seattle pushes against the windows and the ceiling. So when I get up I instantly feel like the pressure releases, and when I walk to the grocery store, see people walking their dogs or restaurants mingling between the breakfast and lunch crowd, and the sun pours down on this place so newly called home, the pressure is gone and the potential burns. I am so young in this city.

It's almost that magic month of August, and my birthday month will bring even more solidity to this move than July carried. A new home on the horizon, a new job for the year, continued growth in myself and in my relationships with others. All the hard work continuing and the benefits showing themselves in some very intangible ways, an unexpected kind of growth for a man who has relied and often thrived on instant gratification.