(no subject)

[jcfiala]

Morning in Boston is so far a somewhat familiar experience. The house I'm staying in is probably a hundred or two years old, and walking around it barefoot waiting for my turn in the shower feels something like when I visted my Grandmother when I was younger, and she still lived in North Tarrytown in New York. Looking outside the windows I see trees and city, the floors are worn smooth by decades of other lodgers, and everything has that slightly worn look. Bed's just as amazingly firm as I remember my grandmother's guest beds being too.

Luckily, bought coffee last night at the grocery store, so I've got a little brain juice to reboot my mind with.