snowball surprise
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-seven years and one million words
Whenever I get the chance, these days, I tend to drowse. I blame the jetlag and the many things we've got on the to-do list.
But nothing jars you from dozing on a street car like someone hitting your window with a snowball. Wheee, once again a reminder that this is no longer Tokyo.
Happily, the meeting I was heading to was a success. We've landed an apartment. It has a fireplace. It's got room for a rambunctious boy. It's got updated floors and windows and counters and appliances. It even has a quirk: our thermostat controls the whole building (wacky!).
And in a big change of pace, it's actually the long-shot that became our neighbourhood. We're living in The Beaches.