Back to the grind, if I can remember how

June 12, 2007

After a week which was eventful in mostly all the best days, I am back at home, looking around a world that is the same as I left it but with a couple of big differences. First and best difference… well, I’m torn. It’s a dead heat between D landing two jobs while I was out and the birth of Frida and Diego’s first son, L-L (pseudonym perhaps forthcoming). Those are two big wonderful changes. Also, T & N are here for a bit of a hiatus between graduation and moving to Philadelphia for at least the next three years.

The only other difference is, I just spent a week in New York herding teenagers and spooning out big gloppy plates of soup kitchen food (which actually wasn’t all that bad, despite “gloppy” being the best adjective to describe most of what we served). The trip rocked. We stayed in the upper west side of Manhattan, at the International Youth Hostel a couple of subway stops south of Columbia University, but most days we trekked to the outer borroughs to work at various organizations serving the homeless in some way. Mostly, that meant soup kitchens but on my small group’s final day, it meant a place that provides childcare for women who had children in prison. (Youngest SIL’s take: “I’m practicing for Older SIL’s baby!) The Quaker group we worked with to set up all the volunteering locations was awesome and every day we got to meet up all together at Friends Seminary, so even though I will never have enough money to send a kid there, I can say that I have walked the halls where Susan Sarandon’s kids are educated and Amanda Peet got married.  We did a little sightseeing, most walking stuff like Times Square and Chinatown. The only time I was seriously scared for the general safety was at Coney Island… the sooner Disney tears it down the better. It was basically Thugland, with more guns tucked in waistbands than I cared to count. Yikes. The kids were pretty happy to get back on the train and leave that whole scene behind once they had taken their requisite ride on the Cyclone. We headed back to Miami on Saturday afternoon, and although I miss the energy and push of navigating through the city every morning, I missed D a whole lot more and so I was glad to get home. I still keep thinking I should have a New York phase, but the fact that I am also thinking about what NYC rent would do to my savings account probably means I’m a little too old to get started on one. Oh well.

So, here I am, back in the world of libraries and peed-on couches and a husband who now works 3-11 but brings me home great organic beer. For some reason I’m not quite back in the flow of things, but I guess that will have to change soon because a whole new round of discussion board postings for Psycho Prof is about to come due. Even when I’m pretty much doubting everything, I know I need to muster up the energy to keep moving. Forward, that is.


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