Patience Place

 

The potential broadcasting studio closet

On the one hand, I'm patient. Very. In fact, too patient.

On the other, I'm not. At all.

In the case of the Presidential Suite (aka, our apartment) I think I've been mostly patient. With each day, I try to do something if I can.

If I can't, well, then I have to be OK with that, even when I'm not.

I think about where we were almost four weeks ago. Or even roughly two months ago.

We packed, junked, and sold most of the last six decades of our house and then packed, junked, sold, and/or moved my life.

And, to be clear, I wound up in the right place, even if my life suddenly is bringing me back up to the Hudson Valley more.  It's OK though -- it just allows me to go back and visit or work.

But back to patience. I definitely got impatient with the process of finding a new desk. Then I had to get a bracket to set up my three monitor setup to do depositions.

Then it was decorating and more unpacking and organizing and more decorating and on and on. But, with each day, I get things into the attic. Eventually, when the weather is more comfortable, I'll go into the attic and organize that better.

As the living room and bedrooms get less cluttered, I begin to get more ideas. Seating in the living room is truly limited (as in just my chair). I have a little space to work with so now I'm pondering a love seat and/or some kind of a futon.

Some of the items I put up in the living room tonight

I also discovered that the small closet in the living room can double as a recording studio when I need a little extra silence. Remember, I'm coming from a dead end street in Mahopac where extraneous sounds weren't usually a problem. In fact, none of my prior homes had noise issues.

There is a constant hum here between I-95, our main street, nearby houses, the train tracks, local businesses, and, simply, life. It's all rolling by our windows, making things lively.

(And a siren just went screaming by as I'm typing)

So while that's been no issue so far, there might be times where a podcast might need a little more silence and I'm ready.

This is my clean slate -- and Sean's, too.

Oh, and let's not forget Rascal, who is asleep in his tower nearby (and is not a scary monster).

With each day (for now) I feel a little better. I don't go to the mailbox with fear. I don't dread. I feel promise and hope and a little excitement. Oh, that doesn't mean there aren't the blues and dark times but it's just different.

There's no doubt some weight came off my shoulders on May 25th. Some still remain but they'll be gone soon.

Then it will be time to decide if we're going to tell those stories and to what extent.

But that's for then. 

For now, I'm here. The canvas is partially painted.

We still have some room to create.