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  • Thursday, March 26, 2015

    I fill the bathtub with steaming hot water and make myself a cup of tea with one of the two complimentary Tazo teabags they put on the little shelf by the door every morning after I leave. How did they know that was my favorite brand? I read the description. "A harmonious blend of green tea with lemongrass and spearmint." Tazo, you’ve done it again. I consider whether I should put on some music while I bathe, or perhaps try to watch something on my laptop without ruining it with soap and water, but I decide it would work best with silence. But of course, not real silence. I’ve intentionally left the window open all day and all night, regardless of the temperature changes, because I want to be breathing San Diego air my entire time here. I can breathe air-conditioned air anywhere, but this slightly moister, warmer, richer west coast air just makes every moment feel a bit more special. So by “silence”, I mean “distant San Diego noises”. The faint noise of the cars as they drive by 30 stories below, the even fainter, barely audible sound of conversations far far away, and once every half-hour or so, the clanging of the railroad crossing warning bell as a train meanders slowly through the city.

    For the first time, I sip tea while taking a hot bath. How have I never done this before? Me, naked, 30 stories in the air, in San Diego. I soak up every second I can.
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