Apartment 916

And so I sit on the couch in my boxers. I sit daily. My new job.

At night, I sleep forever.

In the morning, I get up, gamble a walk to the kitchen, make my daily cup of coffee. Each morning is a test to see if I can pick up the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal left outside my front door. It becomes more and more of a challenge. As I struggle to pick it up, my mind observes my old man struggle with a younger man's distance (my mind and body are no longer simpatico) "surely this is not so hard, it's a newspaper on the floor, pick it up! Will I fall? Will my legs give out? The mind dictates the body - but I am told to listen to my body, to pay heed to what my body is slowly revealing, this is the opposite of how I normally run things. Am I making this up for my TV Movie of the Week? Am I leaning into the tragedy? Do I imagine an audience watching my with pity? Am I writing my teleplay or screenplay?

I stagger to the couch. I fall back into the couch. I sit on the couch (feels so good on my bony ass and scraped away thighs and hips. I sit on the couch and I try to distract myself on the web, or by reading the arts sections in the Times, or checking my flickr account, or by reading facebook (Rob P. just bought a mini cooper and is mad at his bossy wife but his daughter is going to be a pop star- watch this clip)

(I will hide Rob)

My legs ache, my hips ache. This is a bad dream. (Until later when I am out and about and it doesn't exist)

So odd that it rains daily. I like it. I can count on it. No need for sunblock or sunglasses. The cool air feels familiar. Like I picked the wrong week to rent a house on Cape Cod or go camping in Maine, but I'm on vacation damn it, so I'll make the best of it.

It makes my prefab, unnatural New York apartment feel earthy and green. The cool wet air, the dark clouds hanging languorously peeking through my metal blinds. You are included in nature, in the natural order of things (the clouds and cool sea air tell me) even in your pat apartment that normally blocks all the smells and senses of earth and the natural order of the day, the cool earthy rainy air is present on twelfth avenue and 42nd street, nine stories up, in apartment 916.