almost home

I’ve spent the entire day having an almost stomach bug. Really tired and nauseous allowed me to watch a pbs british mini series on netflix, sleep for three hours in the middle of the day and read 200 pages of my book. After three oranges, a grapefruit and endless amounts of ginger tea I’m well enough to go back to work. And hopefully that is the extent of my flu-like symptoms for this year. Last year when I lived in this town, I had what felt like an endless series of stomach bugs. This town tested me with illness, a dead cat, stolen car stereos along with the broken heart I had packed in my suitcase. As much as I wanted to love it here this town did not seem to love me.  One of the perks of being back, and working in a bookstore is the advanced copies of books. I’ve been reading Your Voice In My Head by Emma Forrest all day. It comes out in May, and is an amazing, funny journey of sadness, madness and love, lost and gained. After a particularly difficult break-up she heads to San Francisco, a trying city for her and states,

I look out the window. This is a beautiful city and I had a good time. I thought I would never, ever be back. I thought I could never speak this city’s name again, let alone permit it to speak mine. Time heals all wounds. And if it doesn’t, you name them something other than wounds and agree to let them stay.

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