The early sunrise wakes my cats. Simon is the smart one and he knows that jumping over to my desk and threatening to chew on one of my plants is guaranteed to get me out of bed. I need a heavier curtain in my window. This morning I lay in bed petting his orange fur and thinking about how one of the worst things I ever did was to give Simon to a friend of mine for four months because my jackass ex-boyfriend was bothered by the meowing and the cat fur. That must have been my lowest point, the fall/winter of 1999. I could only go up from there, I think. And from there, I slowly did.

The week seemed to pass slowly, though I got a great deal done at work, and finally got some recognition from my colleagues, which felt really good. Of course it helped to have a fun, interesting project to work on. I had a really nice work week for the first time in a while.

It’s a treat to get to look at the park every morning on the way to work. Yesterday the train stopped at the top of the hill and through the open doors I saw the sprinklers shooting white jets of water over the grass, and a dog racing through the fountains, slapping at the spray with an open mouth. I suddenly wished I could get off the train, sit on one of the benches, and watch the dog for awhile. Instead I continued to cling to the metal pole, listening to the songs on my iPod on random, shuffling through 1500 tracks. Blonde Redhead to Wilco to Bollywood.

This weekend has no plans, except to vacuum the rug, take out the trash, read, and take things as they come. We may go to the East Bay again, see a movie, walk around. Things are so much better, so different, when you don’t live a block from the freeway.