This is the San Francisco Ballet. The shuttle to work picks us up in front of it every morning. The stone steps are surprisingly comfortable.
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The following was written yesterday, on the shuttle ride home.
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Full-blown head cold now. I’m taking vitamin c supplements, as well as drinking a ton of orange juice. This always helped me bounce back from this sort of thing when I was in Michigan, so I figure that it’ll do the same here.
Yesterday, on the shuttle ride home, I had thought about postponing my decision to live in the South Bay until I’d gotten a chance to really explore San Francisco. The Outer Richmond area sounds just perfect, and I even have an in (sort of) that might let me look at apartments that aren’t even on the market yet. It’s all in who you know, apparently.
This seemed reasonable enough, until
I’m not really cool with that.
So, I’ve asked around about the Sunnyvale area, and have gotten some good advice from co-workers about downtown Mountain View. There’s plenty of public transportation all over Silicon Valley, and the downtown Mountain View area has some neat restaurants, lots of coffee shops, and the Museum of Computer HIstory. So, I’m going to check it out this weekend, head cold permitting. I’m also planning on doing more exploring of San Francisco this weekend. Whether or not I’m going to live there, I can’t pass up the opportunity to see a lot of the city.
And yes, more photo posts are coming. :)
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The following was written this morning.
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As the shuttle approached southern San Francisco (“The Industrial City” my ass), I saw the clouds swarm over the top of the mountains, like an invading army. They were coming in from all around, and sliding over the city once they got low enough. They were roiling, and the wind was blowing here like I hadn’t seen since MIchigan. A storm? Here?
The weather helped; it gave me a brief respite. But by the time I was off of the bus, in front of City Hall, I was surrepticiously wiping saline solution from the corners of my eyes. The bus took me up Hayes St., and I hoofed it down Fillmore to Haight and the best sausage place ever, Rosamonde. I hadn’t eaten since lunch, and not eating always colors my mood. I had another break while I was there, lost in the patterns and movement of orders and grilling and checking out. I headed back to my little room, and let myself go.
I wrote a phrase in my novel, from Jason’s point of view, about hating to see a fat man cry. That book keeps ending up being a mirror of the things I’d rather not see.
By the time I’d gotten to the sausage shop, I was certain that if SOAR were to call me back and make me a reasonable offer, that I’d take it and move back to Michigan. JP is of the opinion that this is the destruction before the creation.
It’s also good to note that I haven’t been sleeping well. With having to catch these shuttles, sleeping on a harder futon than I’m used to, the difference in the air here, and the head cold, it’s been rough. I’m sure that the stress of moving across the country for a job that I can’t believe that I got, in the middle of a separation from my wife and likely divorce isn’t helping.
Near the end of the breakdown, I decided to email the lady from SOAR.
I went to sleep dreaming about moving to Ann Arbor. When I woke up, after a more complete and restful sleep than I’ve had in a week, I realized that the way in which I’d been dreaming of A2 was exactly the way that I’d been dreaming of moving to San Francisco. It was an escape, and not a solution. So, despite my determination last night, I’m not scheduling any flights this weekend, and I’m still going to look at apartments in and around downtown Mountain View. I’m still going to do a bit of touring of the city, blister(s) willing.
We’ll see how the commute home goes. Maybe I’ll wait for the later shuttle, so it won’t be so packed with people.