You’d think I’d be used to it…by now…so many behind me, but somehow sleeping in an unfamiliar place is always difficult for me. New “homes” homes more than hotels or hostels. I don’t know if my mind registers that the others are temporary filling stations for sleep and that is why I have less issue or if I have selective memory, but last night in a crappy overpriced hotel, with most of New Orleans honking their horns and shooting into the air to celebrate the winning saints game and I managed sleep before tonight. Not much earlier mind you – but earlier still.

Now I find myself sitting in my new queen sized bed with my back (knotted and cramping) to the wall my laptop to my knees, composing essays (poorly) and blogs like I haven’t in a few weeks. And there is so much to do…tomorrow…and the next. My life falling into place at a greater pace than I realized before I got here.

And at once it is wonderful and horrible. Wonderfully horrible. My life plotting itself together even as life after may is unknown to me.

All this aside. I have a home. A bed to sleep on. Tomorrow the search for food will begin (and a fridge)…and life here…and life here…if I can just get some sleep.

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