Transition complete

Officially now moved to Shreveport. Even the final boxes have been unpacked, those last-packed boxes that are ridiculously eclectic—a toothbrush, a couch pillow, DVDs, silverware, power cords for unknown gadgets. The steamy sweat-sock air of South Florida wasn’t escaped. On the move-in-day it was 106 degrees in S-port, 99 at about 930 one night. Maggie was a trooper through it all, probably more relaxed than any of us. She does ask about her old friends, her school, some places we use to visit.

The new apartment is surprisingly much nicer than ours in Deerfield, and also unbelievably cheaper. I thought I had a haunt in my new office. Every few minutes late at night I’d here this deep breathing sound from something large and sleeping. Jean came in to confirm the sound. Jean then dispelled it when she noticed the sprinkler sweeping the side of the apartment. So there goes my ghost.

I’m slowly getting back into the swing of things. Reading, writing, thinking. I have an interview tomorrow for an entry level position as a tech writer at a pharmaceutical company. Hopefully that goes well and I can be a productive citizen again. Even though it is still suffocating hot, you can sense fall closing in and the prospect of winter. It’s been four years since I’ve had to don on a coat and gloves. My writing is not one of color, sun, and puffy white clouds, making it difficult for me to write in South Florida. I can’t wait until the first run of overcast days of damp and unmoving air.