I couldn't think of anywhere I would've rather been.
I woke up this morning with an awful feeling of missing all things San Diego. But then I was standing on the corner outside the Farragut North stop and it was gloomy. About 75 degrees. Breezy enough to make you want a sweater but perfect for anyone used to it. And if you took a deep breath, sorted out the smells of the hot dog vendor to your left and the bum to your right, it almost smelled like the beach. Dulled the pain a little bit.
And I think the thing I miss from home - aside from legit mexican food - is people who walk at my pace. Literally, in stride with me. Everyone I've met has either walked too fast for no reason leaving me trailing behind, or been trailing me because they weren't sure what they wanted to be doing. And maybe I took it for granted, but I pictured myself walking around campus, through IV, around Westwood, or anywhere around The Valley, and those people walk directly at my side. Step for step, not going anywhere too fast or getting lost in the crowd. Maybe it's some sort of metaphor, sign, something.
I'm in no hurry. I'm in no rush.
And I think the thing I miss from home - aside from legit mexican food - is people who walk at my pace. Literally, in stride with me. Everyone I've met has either walked too fast for no reason leaving me trailing behind, or been trailing me because they weren't sure what they wanted to be doing. And maybe I took it for granted, but I pictured myself walking around campus, through IV, around Westwood, or anywhere around The Valley, and those people walk directly at my side. Step for step, not going anywhere too fast or getting lost in the crowd. Maybe it's some sort of metaphor, sign, something.
I'm in no hurry. I'm in no rush.