I just drove around for a while hoping to run into some rain. I didn't. It was a nice drive, but it also kind of sucked. I took it all the way down Tanque Verde and found a really nice spot for star gazing. If there weren't clouds reflecting infinite city light tonight, I think it would have been stunning. I plan on revisiting that spot on some clear night in the future.
The wind was good. The temperature made for nice windows down cruising. The lightning didn't light up the sky as much or as often as I had hoped when I initially set out, but it was nice. I saw two people taking pictures (or trying to) of the lighting. It looked like they knew what they were doing. I hope they got something of value from their time spent along the side of the road like that.
I went places I had never been before. I found places I went a long time ago. I drove by the old houses of old friends. I looked and looked for some sort of epiphany or sight or something to jar me from this internal funk I've fallen into. But, like the rain, I didn't really run into anything.
I stopped by my dad's house before I went home. I haven't been there in a while. It's different. I still feel comfortable there, but the level of familiarity I shared with that house has been diminished by time. Still. The visit didn't have the effect I had hoped it might have. I did walk away with a slice of delicious meat and it was good to surprise my family a little and sort of check in with the house. The more I visit, the less that diminishing of familiarity will be felt.
When I got back to my apartment, I did realize that I have already achieved a high level of comfort with this place. I am pleased to sit at my computer in these walls, to lay on my couch, and to relax. In the midst of an evening filled with a starry sky, lightning, city lights, nostalgia, and never before seen places, I am most pleased to be here.
If only being here could shake out the balloon in my chest.