The New House

I'm kind of temporarily here. That's what I kept telling myself for years, but this time I'm sure I mean it.

I've always meant to move out of New York, but since I've packed up once this year to go traveling in the Australasia region for three months, I feel like I can actually pack up and move for good (or at least for a few years.)

But I'm still working here for at least the summer, so I have to have a place to live. And that's why I'm moving into the artist loft, or the the hippie house (what I've been calling it in my head). It's a large loft space, just steps away from where I used to live in Park Slope, and Wendi, the "den mother" (or person on the lease) has set it up as a temporary place for travelers, artists, students and people trying to establish some roots in NY to stay. There's a large space in the middle of the apartment where Wendi is going to be giving Yoga classes, and of course, there are the requisite cats roaming around the apartment. I told some of my friends about the Yoga room, and they were somewhat horrified.

"You're going to have strangers doing Yoga in your house?"

"Um, yeah, I guess so."

I don't know, it sounded pretty good to me. And I thought it would be nice to live with people for a while. I feel like I've been floating around by myself for quite a while and it would be nice to have some people around.

I moved my stuff in yesterday. I was going to just drop my stuff in the room and go back to my old sublet to clean up, but I was greeted by an iguana and two cats on opening the door. Melissa, a biology teacher who was originally living in my room, was apparently staying in there for a couple of days. She rushed over to me and said, "I'm sorry, I'll move my stuff out right now." I told her, no worries. I wasn't staying there tonight anyway.

Seasonal Work

On my way to work this morning, I stop in the bagel store next to my subway stop. I notice that there's still a help wanted sign in the window -- a newer version of the old one put up a few weeks ago, this one written on heavy card stock instead of a paper napkin. The economy must be improving. More people are probably buying morning bagels before work. Which means more people are rushing off to work instead of hanging around their houses collecting unemployment, and more people -- those who do rush off to work -- can afford to buy the morning bagel instead of economizing and eating cereal at home.

I think about how nice it would be to do seasonal work. Working in the bagel store is only fast-paced when you have a line of hungry people in front of your counter. The only things you have to think about are plain or poppy; cream cheese or butter; to stay or to go. Instead of sitting in front of a computer for eight hours a day, you can move around and talk to people; you're exercising on the job.

I pass through the wholesale-merchandise district on the way to work every day. And I think about the other kinds of seasonal work I could be doing.. "umbrella! umbrella!" You can buy 12 umbrellas for 10 bucks at some of these stores. Now I know where all of those rainy-day umbrella sellers come from, popping out on every street corner as soon as a drop of rain falls from the sky.