Today is yet another day when I don’t have a sense of what I want to write. Those days keep coming but usually I don’t write. Simple solutions.
It is still not full summer here which means that the days go from I need to wear a jacket to I wish I could wear bikini to work. One day it is cloudy, moody, and you don’t hear any sounds from the outside, just cars passing through. And the next day it is hot, swelling, and random music starts playing from the rooftops around.
I’ve been surprised by what I do during the days. Before I came, I thought that each day would be an adventure, where I’ll go exploring the city, perhaps go back to horseback riding in the Centennial Park, or spend my mornings at the beach. But now, I feel calm enough to read, write, and see. So my days turn quiet as I am reading a piece on whale necropsy, a long novel on suffering through a forced existence, as I watch a short documentary about a Belgian woman who decided to end her life, a movie about nothing, or Jessica Jones, why not, or as I write about things I am still profoundly confused about, or as I sleep and dream and wonder why I dream about the past.
Even work is quiet. Each one of us works with a different product and we are part of a team that is all over the world: Singapore, Japan, Tel Aviv, Dublin, New York… Finally, work is a little enjoyable because I work on complex problems and I deliver clarity and technical expertise. And because there is still so much to learn; so many interesting details that were once thought up as revolutionary. It’s almost like studying history and being able to explain how everything connects to anything.
And so I’ve been here for over a month now and I don’t feel at home yet, but I know that one day I could.