I’ve spent 4 days cat sitting in a small California beach town.

I haven’t been really left alone for more than a couple hours in over a month.

My heart is refilled and bursting with joy that I’ve had this time to myself. It’s like I was sick as a dog but not being able to acknowledge it without giving up the roof over my head.

More importantly, walls around me, since nobody worries about rain this time of year, but goddam if my hood in Oakland isn’t the spookiest place I’ve ever walked around. Walking down the street in the morning on a Tuesday is risky business, and I don’t scare easily. I’ve stayed at and lived in hoods like Guatemala City, Mexico City, Detroit, Richmond, DC, New Orleans, Istanbul, aaaand a couple spanish gypsy camps. I’ve never been as intuitively spooked as I am here. I can’t justify or reason why necessarily, but the feelings there.

But back here in Pacifica, I’ve been on day rides, day hikes, night walks and night bikes.

The weathers been beautiful. And I’m glad you weren’t here. Hah