Last week was my 35th birthday. It was full of flowers, cats, friends, good food, and time to just chill out. I'm feeling very grateful, if contemplative as I move into my 35th year. I recently picked up the book The Folded Clock (a diary-memoir of sorts) by Heidi Julavits and randomly flipped open to a spot ( I often do this when trying to decide if I actually want to buy the book). The spot I landed upon had Julavits reflecting on time and what time means to her now. As she exposits on time she starts to realize that the shortest period of time that really has any meaning to her is a month. A day goes by like a flash, a week fills up so quickly, but a month is where there is still some open expansiveness to what can be done, what can be accomplished. I am of course paraphrasing, but I definitely found myself relating to it quite heavily.
That last photo is of Otis. On occasion he will sleep like this. I find it infinitely hilarious. It's like he's so tired he couldn't even take the time to lay his head down and instead just dropped it straight down the moment he curled up on the blanket. Now that the birthday celebrations have passed, I'm feeling a bit like this myself as I move into looking for a new place and preparing for an unintended move in the next month or two. Wish me luck! With rental prices continuing to sky rocket here in Oakland and the neighboring cities, there is a very real chance I'll be moving to the outskirts of the bay area.
It's going to be an adventure. (I tell myself half-convincingly.)
