I got out of my early morning yoga class on Sunday, walked four blocks to the neighborhood coffeshop where I ordered an iced latte and some breakfast sandwiches, and walked a few blocks more to meet up with my friends. I caught my reflection in a window and had to laugh. Here I was, in my yoga pants + tank + mat with an iced coffee in my hand, strolling through my neighborhood and feeling right at home.
Know what I was doing at 9:30 on Sunday mornings three months ago? Sleeping. And then laying around my apartment doing nothing until it was time to sleep again.
To say I’m happy in DC is an understatement.
It wasn’t that I was unhappy in Atlanta, but it just wasn’t my place. You know those moments when you look around and can’t believe this is your life? That’s what Sunday was for me. Though I looked the part of a yuppie cliche, I was still in disbelief that I actually live here.
There are a million things I could write about – brunches and out of town guests and summer plans and that time I woke up with a bag of cheese fries next to my bed – but between twitter + instagram, I’m not sure how much there is left to share?
(I’m a terrible blogger.)
What’s new with you?