The Right thing at the Right time

I had terrible dreams last night, dreams that were like bad versions of past things and people, dreams that woke me up every hour on the hour only to let me fall back asleep to a different version of the same uncomfortable feeling. And I ended up on the wrong side of the bed even when waking up with the arms of the one I love wrapped around me.

How unfair. How unfair that one sleepless night of mental insanity can color your entire day, can make you feel like something bigger and more potent than yourself is conspiring to darken your life in some way. How unfair it is when your eyes tear up on their own accord, leaving you to wonder what you could possibly have to cry about?

Three hours later I still felt cloudy and slightly confused, waiting for the 1 train at Christopher Street to whisk me away to the day's next task. And then, from the opposite platform- the strains of Hallelujah. A song that's been sung by so many, so many amazing musicians, and still, to me, sounds like salvation when sung by a nameless busker. A song that instantly saddens me and calms me in such a magical way that I cannot explain it's hold over me or what it means or why I am drawn so to it's sorrowful strains. I watched from across 3 sets of electrified tracks and wished that I could throw far enough for whatever money I had in my wallet to reach his guitar case. And I watched as almost EVERY SINGLE PERSON who walked by on that side of the station, at least every other, threw money into that case. In the four years I've lived here (and all the previous years, when I think I probably noticed much more than I do now), I have seen countless subway and street musicians peddling their talent. And I have never seen one so well-received by the usual foot traffic. It was like this siren song, like this grace, that was having an affect on nearly everyone that took their headphones out of their ears long enough to listen.

A 2 train passed, fast, with a rumble and whoosh and then it was gone, and the guy was only finishing up the bridge. I saw the oncoming 1 train waiting down the tracks, lights blazing, but motionless- like it was giving us the end of the song.

And then, just after the last word, 1 trains from both directions flew in the station and parted the guitar chords that still hung in the air. And I felt a little bit less alone.

Today's List(s)

Things I Hate:
-Allergies. Something I haven't had in four years. What I thought was a benefit of living in a city.
-Cold/rainy days. Nothing new here. Except that it is unfair that this happen in conjunction with allergies.
-Boys with hipster hair which falls in front of eyeballs obscuring view on purpose. Girly.

Things I Love:
-Ham. Delicious.
-Upcoming vacations. Something to dream about.
-New hair. Something fun to look at in the mirror. Instant self-esteem.

Things I can't decide about:
-Zombie movies. Cool, scary, or just uncomfortable? Sometimes all three.
-The E! network. On one hand, it has The Soup and Chelsea Lately. On the other hand, it also has annoyingly plastic surgeried host(esses) and non-stop coverage of Miley Cyrus.

Things I should add to the Hate list:
-Miley Cyrus. No explanation necessary.

Secretly I wish I was Romanian?

I think I assume a foreign persona when emailing people about apartments, and I have no idea why. Because all the listing are obviously from foreign brokers or landlords and I want to fit in? Because I think I sound more refined when I use the word "mobile" instead of "cell"? Because I want them to believe that I am bilingual and therefore more worthy of an apartment? Because I am reading "You Shall Know Our Velocity" and one of the characters does this when he travels?

Huh?

Leavings

I'm going to Jamaica in 16 days!

And I'm (if all goes as planned) moving in 55 days!

And I am so ready for both.

Even if I hadn't had a huge fight with my landlord (I do not even want to go into how stupid this fight was) and even if I hadn't missed my previously scheduled vacation (so not revisiting this), I would be desperately needing both to happen as soon as possible. I can do 16 days. 55? I hope so. Because I have been scoping out matching dishes since February, I am anxious to clean my carpets, my waffle maker patiently awaits a coveted spot on a new countertop, and of course I really miss my sister, aka new roommate. The countdown has officially begun.

There seems to be so much to do before I go, but it's too early to start doing any of it. This is going to be so worth it, right? Moving scares me, and money scares me (or rather spending it in large amounts), and I have to do both of these things at once very soon. Everything seems so daunting right now... I wish I could sleep through the next few weeks and wake up and drink a pot of coffee and just get it over with.

I can make it through the next two weeks. I can do that, and I can go lay on a beach and get drunk on local rum and fruity concoctions with my ginger boyfriend, and then I can come back and figure some crap out.

It is time to get back in "what the hell should I do with my life" mode and get my act together.
Rev up that coffeemate, San- we're gonna do this shit.