San Francisco is a pretty cool place to live in, although I live in Oakland now, but it's just two subway stops away.
I walk a minimum of two miles every day. At first, when I was lugging my laptop to work as well, I had to stop at benches and rest. Apparently the amount of weight I've again lost since going back on Zoloft is the same as what my laptop bag weighs, because my back pretty much felt the same. This week, without the laptop? I might stop and rest once during the walk to/from work, for twenty seconds or so.
I've steadily been sweating less each day, and finally figured out that I can basically take any East Bay train I want to get home, which is fucking sweet: no waiting, unless I want to.
I have missed two concerts so far, because I am still exhausted from the accelerated move. I could have seen Alabama Shakes the night after I arrived, but I was pretty much comatose that day. I didn't get to see FNM for pretty much the same reason, but since they are from SF, they'll probably add a couple of dates after their tour.
My boss really likes me and I think he's pretty glad he got me. The first things I wrote for him didn't even get altered, not one bit. And he's inviting me over for Mint Juleps on Derby Day, which, I don't want to tell him how I hate mint in anything that's not a breath freshener, but hey, he's the boss. There's only so many times I can get by with drinking beers.
Oh yeah. The key to not being a drunk if you do it because otherwise you cannot sleep is to walk a lot. It's 9pm, PST. If I wanted to go to bed right now, I would be asleep for like five hours. I might be getting used to the commute, but it doesn't mean my body isn't still complaining, and needing rest.
All of the pro framed pics survived the journey, but I may wait til my brother visits to hang them. Tomorrow I go to buy a couch and a new, smaller TV.
Life is pretty fucking good for me right now. And to think, it wouldn't have happened if my life hadn't gone to shit after the stroke and Dad dying.