Last Monday was a day of airport goodbyes, or at least see you later’s. Feeling wistful, I decided I’d try to figure out public transportation back to town, from the airport. I couldn’t find any public bus signs in baggage claim so I asked at the information desk, where a shrugging man pointed me out where the rental car buses pick up. I stood out there for awhile, not seeing any signs, so I consulted google again and it pointed me upstairs to departures. Finally I saw the familiar RTA sign, with 2 different stops marked. Hooray! I boarded 10 minutes later and quickly realized I was on the bus a lot of hospitality workers take into the city. This bus didn’t have accurate sign notifications so I looked as best I could out the window, trying to determine where we were. Finally I saw Canal Street, googled a passing address, and realized we were at my stop! I made a quick stop for organic produce (a waste of time but oh well), stopped for a fresh-baked sesame bagel at Flour Moon Bagels and started the hour walk home.
It was a quiet night, of acclimating myself to a mostly-empty space.
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Tuesday was a tough work day and also my first day at the co-working space. I don’t love being near a kitchen and chatty people but the wifi is fast and there’s coffee and I can jump into a private pod if I need to. So, it will have to do. Work has been stressful and unforgiving so I spent most of the day revamping a struggling project. The walk home is pleasant and I chef’ed up dinner, listening to a podcast and feeling a little less haggard.
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Wednesday: today was double shot day (covid + flu) so I tried to hydrate, did some work, and then headed out to Walgreen’s. Nothing happens fast here and this was no exception, but the technician was friendly and I grabbed Rosalita’s tostadas and an elote on the way home, in case I needed comfort food. I dialed into a super friends happy hour Zoom later on, to catch up on what my PNW pals have been up to.
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Finally, on Thursday, my legs agreed it was time for a run. It was in the 50’s so I pulled on leggings and headed out to Rouse’s. A very drunk guy was proclaiming his love of Halloween and pumpkins (PUNKINS!), so I grabbed salad stuff and acknowledged that they were pretty great punkins, and headed back out, stopping at Ayu Bake House on my way home for a vegetarian muffaletta stick (major YUM) and an Ayu Bun for later.
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The weekend! With a Cox internet outage looming, I got coffee and a pillowy, cinnamony apple fritter at St. Coffee and sat on the pleasant patio enjoying the birds and the succulents. The owner came out to wipe tables and lamented how hot and dry summer had been; she’d watered and watered. It looked beautiful, I said, and walked myself to the co-working space. I spent hours pulling documentation together, tried to tune out the pizza party (ugh), figured out how to use the fancy coffee maker, then went home, changed shirts and hustled to my volunteer gig, with a pit stop at Louisiana Music Factory to pick up a fake book. The evening show was not well attended, despite a guest artist from Argentina (the attendees barely outnumbered the band), but I chatted with employees and a bitchy bartender, got a free whiskey drink, and made it home in time for a friendy-friend Zoom with pals.
This was my first museum weekend so I got up early, spent an hour at the very quiet co-working space doing some writing, grabbed iced coffee--strong and not acidic: win!--from Baldwin & Co, then walked up Esplanade to the New Orleans Museum of Art. I lingered a moment crossing Bayou St. John--I haven’t seen much water other than the Mississippi of course. I spent 90 happy minutes wandering the galleries, especially pleased by the exhibits showcasing Black photographers, and up-and-coming artists. The 91 bus did not materialize so I walked back down Esplanade in the heat, took a detour through Treme Fest, then, wilting a little, I trekked down to the Spotted Cat for Saturday afternoon jazz. I had thought the band Doro Wat might be Ethiopian but it was of course four white guys (le sigh). They were solid and good though, playing and singing the classics with panache, despite the lurchings of drunk tourists (five tipsy tanned girls in pink “NOLA 2022” ball caps, the usual bleating oldsters). I ordered a Miller Lite and grabbed a seat, only dropping in a tip and leaving when the old guy next to me wouldn’t quit humming. Then it was back to the co-working space, the soundtrack a band warming up for a wedding reception next door, then home for a hot shower and date night on Zoom, bittersweet but nice.
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Today’s agenda: writing and resting, and plotting a road trip north.
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