Back in town
I was in D.C. for the weekend, and I am still trying to piece together exactly what I want to say; it’s like all the thoughts are in one of those washing machines you see in the commercials, with the bright primary colors swirling around and the detergent gets everything cleaner. Memories flung themselves at me while I walked around; and they were all about rushing. I had no calm, anxiety-free memories of D.C. My flashbacks consisted of me running with a handtruck full of boxes through McPherson Square Park, sweating and dodging pigeons, of dashing to Kinko’s to slice quarter-leaf promotional fliers and bookmarks for the used booksale fundraiser, only to find out that they were printed all wrong, or printed too many, of waiting and pacing in the clammy early morning light on the corner by the Petworth Metro, waiting for a ride to a school, of trudging to Connecticut Street meetings in the blinding white heat, of running through Metro stations, dashing down escalators, breath held, heart pounding, where was I going? Luckily I also spent some time _not_ in the downtown by myself, with Sarah, Kat, Travis, Emily & Co., and we dined, drank and brunched our way through much of the weekend.