I've been essentially gone all summer. Traveling for work took up most of June. Weekends in July and August were spent at the "Crapshack" I rented in East Hampton. So this week is the first time I've had to take care of things at home. I wasn't looking forward to the lists, the organizing, the shlepping. But it was long past time so today I started taking care of business.
I live on the Upper West Side of New York City. I've lived alternately East and West over the years. When I sold my apartment a few years ago a friend helped me find a fantastic rental on West 86th Street. (Perfect size. High floor. Huge outdoor space.) I wasn't so excited about the neighborhood. I had been happy East. Off Park Avenue. I didn't truly fit in over there, but I faked it pretty well. You know...pretended not to see people on the street. Carried the obligatory designer bags...handbag and shopping. Never walked. Taxis for everything. When in Rome... But I was wow-ed by the new space so I trotted my not-quite-east-not-quite-west-self across the park once more.
I've lived in this building for 3-1/2 years now. It occurred to me today, as I ran from the cleaner to the shoe repair to the grocery store, that this is truly as much a neighborhood as where I grew up. I ran into people I haven't seen all summer. Met up with some friends in the building. Bumped into the guy from the pet supply store in the street. Reunited my dog with her dog friends at Mariner's Gate.
Not a momentous day, but I came home feeling all warm and fuzzy.
