Yesterday the wind blew so cold and fierce, it felt like winter. I went for a walk in the afternoon, looking for glass (i.e., I visited two glass supply shops in town) and then walked to D.-Street Beach. I was close to unpleasant. At the stores, I struck out. The first one basically said, “Nothin’ doing,” and acted as though I were asking for something quite impossible. The second was extremely knowledgeable, but seemed to think he would need a template to cut the glass to the proper size. He basically said he couldn’t do it otherwise. I might still bug him about it again, because I don’t think it’s anything more than a regular rectangle of tempered, high-heat withstanding glass. He also insisted I should be able to call Whirlpool to complain, but I had already tried that and gotten nowhere.
Before I set out, A. called. He had some distressing news which might result in his leaving Berlin much earlier than anticipated. Ideally, the startup will still work out, but if not, he’ll come back here, “resign” himself to spending (all) his free time commuting, and work for a Boston company. On the one hand I’d be really happy to have him leaving [sic] nearby. On the other, given my own conflicted feelings about B., the North Shore, and Greater Boston generally (as well as car-centric living), it’s not a lifestyle I’d endorse. I can’t really see A., pinned, like a dead butterfly by some sadistic lepidopterist fate, to life in Boston. He’d almost be better off in NYC, honestly. The reason he mentioned the commuting times is because he knows how expensive rents are. He said even [gf] M., in Watertown (which is not a great commute to the Seaport District, say) was paying $1400 per month just for a room in a shared apartment / house. And I’ve looked at downtown Boston rents myself, and just thought, “F-that.” I forgot to mention to him, though, how expensive it has gotten here, or that J.V. on A.-Ave. around the corner from us is renting an apartment in his house for $1950. Yikes. No idea how many rooms – might be two bedrooms? But …damn. And J. next door says she pays over $2100, which is just the main floor of a duplex house. And this is here, not downtown Boston. So, given the shocking rise in rents even on the North Shore, maybe it’s not a great idea to root oneself here, unless the jobs are really stellar. But for A.’s interests in finance, NYC might be better. Rich or poor, it’s nice to have money.
I’m looking out at a solid grey sky. And nearly all the trees, except for this darker-leafed maple variety, have begun to green. The darker-leafed ones come along a bit later, but I think they’re the ones that last longest in the fall, too.
I’m not too thrilled with the way my morning pages are going under this new regime. They’re not thoughtful, they’re laundry-list-ish. Maybe it’s less a function of the order I’m doing them in and more a question of the drag the new early-rising-get-ready-for-work routine is creating. I hate laundry lists. I don’t want to hate the writing here. It was something I really love, looked forward to. Come back, my love.