Dream On
The highlight of my night last evening was dreaming that my landlord was telling me he was going to install a washer and dryer in my apartment and you don’t know how good that felt. I played out scenarios in my head of being able to wash my clothes while naked and fold my undergarments without being stared at by saliva-drooling laundry mat customers thinking I’m trying to seduce them with skimpy pieces of pretty fabrics.
I was beaming. I couldn’t believe someone would do something so nice.
You would’ve thought I'd won the lottery. I’d arrived and could now be considered a respectable individual in society. It felt almost as good as the glow I felt during my walk on the beach on my birthday. I’m that deep.
I guess the good thing about living in The Hood without a washer and dryer, or dish washer, or central air, or any way whatsoever to control the heat is that any little thing now seems like such a luxury - one I would cherish.
Maybe that’s the lesson to this little place in the world I currently call “home”. Appreciation.
I was beaming. I couldn’t believe someone would do something so nice.
You would’ve thought I'd won the lottery. I’d arrived and could now be considered a respectable individual in society. It felt almost as good as the glow I felt during my walk on the beach on my birthday. I’m that deep.
I guess the good thing about living in The Hood without a washer and dryer, or dish washer, or central air, or any way whatsoever to control the heat is that any little thing now seems like such a luxury - one I would cherish.
Maybe that’s the lesson to this little place in the world I currently call “home”. Appreciation.
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