I am about to have a cavity drilled. I am behind in my deadlines. I am settled, pretty much, in my new job. I am on the verge of writing something real. I am reading two magazines and four books, which has meant just carrying one of each around with me since I don’t have time really to read any except on the subway. I am enjoying the subway, though maybe I shouldn’t admit that. I am expanding—physically, mentally, as is the shelf where I keep my papers of things that need attention, things I need to take of, things I really want to do, each day more than the last. I am exploring my options. I am peeking at new cities. I am considering leaving a city altogether and what that might be like. (I don’t know if I could hack it.) I am wondering what I should do with myself, just like I was all summer, it’s almost fall now and I am wondering still.
I have always loved the fall. It’s when school starts (I wish I were still in school; I love school); it’s when the weather cools (or is supposed to); it’s when I met E.
The cavity is one from my childhood. It’s falling out and must be replaced. I always thought cavities were forever, but nothing is forever, and I should have learned that by now. Fall brings change. It brings new fillings, new challenges, a new outlook on life?
Ideas are cascading over me, but we all know that’s not enough. The ideas must meet paper. This fall they will, I hope.
A conversation last night with the other half. He sees something in me, and I see something in him: what we’re each capable of, that potential. Could we trade that faith, one for the other? Imagine the confidence, if I had his, and he had mine.