It’s been a full week of city living for me, and while I am very much enjoying myself, I find myself increasingly weary. This is the closest I have ever come to living in a major city- every other time I have been in a big place like this it has been hotel living, where you eat out every meal and they clean up after you. I haven’t had to grocery shop or do the day to day things. It’s a real change in lifestyle- just schlepping groceries back to the place is a different experience- you don’t load up the family truckster and just come home- you have to pick what you need more carefully because you have to haul it back by foot or pay for a cab, and that doesn’t even go into the storage issues of a small condo.
This place is super expensive, so I have only been eating out once a day, and some nights not even that. Devon and I went out all three nights.
I do enjoy all the sun, though. It’s been just what I needed, although I have found my hours have changed dramatically. I get up at 4:30 and work until the dogs get up, then feed and walk them and work some more. Spend a couple hours in the pool, get some more stuff done, and then next thing you know it’s dinner time, and by nine or ten I am falling asleep in the chair.
This condo complex has a doorman, in this case a doorlady, and she is a pleasant young lady from somewhere in Africa who sounds exactly like one of the characters in No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency. She really has the most amazing smile, and every time I go somewhere when she is working, I come back with a chocolate for her.
I was talking on twitter how I don’t understand why people in real America hate it when people don’t speak English. I love it. I know no one is talking to me. Also, the other upside is that since I have no internal monologue and often say inappropriate things, when I don’t speak the same language as people, there are fewer awkward moments.