Thankful

I'm sitting on my fire escape, drinking a glass of very cheap white wine, watching the sunset over the brownstones of Harlem.  I've had a tough-ish day, which really just means more than the usual battling of inner demons, but the tell-tale signs of PMS have appeared and so now I can write it off as that and move on. 

I went swimming this evening at the pool across the street from my house, a free outdoor double-Olympic size pool with friendly staff and surprisingly few people there.   During the five minute walk there, I called my parents to tell them I had a hard day, and then to say that I've had surprisingly few hard days for a girl who just moved across the country, and so we put it in perspective.  My dad also suggested that it might be that I'm coming to the end of what I know-- my last role will be over in 10 days, and so maybe I'm getting anxious.  I got to the pool,  put in a mile, my second this week, pulled myself out, dried myself off and walked home while watching the clouds turn orange, feeling serene, at peace and cozy here in Harlem.  On the way home I checked my phone, with a message from a director, asking for my availability for the rest of August.  A little gift to me.

Sitting on my stoop I feel tiny and inconsequential.  I can see millions of apartments lighting up in the evening to the west of me, with cathedral spires pushing up like beacons over the city.  I'm thankful for the work of the day, thankful to be alive, thankful to be able to experience this life, a tremendous gift.