What a great way to start out my Saturday -- the guy scanning cards at the gym handed me a Crest SpinBrush as I went in for yoga. Hooray for free shit.
Today's meditative message for yoga was gratitude. Nothing could possibly have been more appropriate for me. We were breathing in love and exhaling peace; breathing in joy and exhaling gratitude. It was so intense I was fighting back tears.
Tears? Yes. I'm even borderline weepy right now. I think I've been hiding my stress and worry and anxiety in whatever mental and physical nook or cranny I could find over the past couple of weeks. But now that I'm back home after nearly a week away, I guess it's starting to seep out.
New York is a great city. And I probably would have enjoyed it much more if I'd not been spending the bulk of my time in ridiculously crowded, garish, touristy Times Square and nearly as congested, but less touristy Chelsea. Where I might add I was working from like 8:30 to 6:00 or 6:30 every day. Soho on Thursday was delightful. My aunt and uncle's house along the Hudson river on Monday was lovely. I had dinner at Breeze on Wednesday. That was good, but since it was so close to my hotel, the crowds were still gross. Topaz Thai on Thursday after the tapas party in Soho? Oh my God. It was so good. But of course, I had to work my way through the crowd as I walked back the 10 blocks or so to the Paramount.
And I don't even want to talk anymore about the Paramount. Those fuckers can lick my ass. The guy at the bagel cart between my subway stop and the office who knew me and my order after two days and called me "Honey" and "Sweetie?" He was great. I felt bad telling him I would not be seeing him on Monday, 'cause I was heading out of town. So yeah, New York is great and I can see why people live there. And I can still understand why just a few years ago I would have loved to have moved there.
But you know what? I missed Minneapolis so fucking much. God, I love it here. Of course, I missed my apartment and my bed and all of my stuff. I missed cooking and not eating shit food for a week. I missed working out and yoga. But I also missed being able to see the sky not crowded with buildings. I missed tree-lined streets and green lawns and the lakes.
I tried to soak it in on my drive to and from yoga -- the grass and trees and Lake Calhoun. I soaked up the sun and breeze and sound of birds while I ate breakfast and drank a cup of coffee on my deck. And I am so fucking grateful for all of this. I'm grateful for a beautiful summer day. I'm grateful that I am going to spend a significant chunk of the day outside in the Sculpture Garden, drinking and listening to great bands with some of the people I adore most in this world. I am grateful to be home and I am so grateful to have my life.