Bonjour, Autumn. The city is rimmed with gold, red and orange speckles of leaves. Breeze tousles hair and clouds overwhelm with melancholy. Fucking lovely.
I wake pleasantly, but surprisingly early (because how often does one wake up well rested and before noon in one morning?) An uninvited ghostly pang below the clavicles reminds me that it’s my last day home, also last day of vacation, also last day I wake up well rested and before noon in one morning. I become increasingly anxious and well aware of just how much I’ve wanted to do and did not quite get to this summer, and I try master planning everything accomplishable while figuring out bedhead issues in front of a mirror. Plan rehearsed, I make breakfast appointments, meet my hair dresser, and give half-assed hums to her unconscious monologue.
At 10:20 am, I run (literally) late (also quite literally) to breakfast with a friend, who patiently scrawls her Instagram and texts me soothing “it’s ok’s” as I profusely apologise and navigate the metro.
When I finally do show up, I order oatmeal-something-granola, which is very appropriate for a fancy brunch place, and sip coffee in attempts to actually function today.
At noon, I meet my brother, because bro-time is a very prominent, highlighted and underlined to-do on my list, and we drive around, “running errands” as one says when doing nothing in particular.
From four to nine we have birthday dinner with a family friend, during which I unceremoniously excuse myself from the table to meet another friend for much needed fifteen-minute philosophical talk, before he has to run and I have to go.
That said, I’ve yet to pack my belongings and my flight to NYC is at 11:00 am. Groovy.
– Alice Pylypenko