I don’t mean like “seeing family and friends”, or “travel.” (of courseI I miss those, too). I mean *specifically.*
I miss FlyWheel on a Saturday morning. 45 minutes to sweat, and hurt, and be proud of myself at the end.
I miss porchetta sandwiches from RoliRoti at the Ferry Building after, messily consumed on the pier, sitting next to a seagull.
I miss doubling back to the Wing, to shower and change, take a lazy nap on the couch, pretending to read.
I miss a different weekend day too: driving an hour out of the city to go climb a mountain. Gulping down the fresh air because i don’t have to pull on my mask when fellow hikers pass me on the trail. Drinking as much water as I need because although the public bathroom at the trailhead is gross, it’s open and won’t *actually* kill me.
I miss weekdays, too: NYTimes crosswords on Caltrain, making a latte in the office kitchen, “Good morning, Howard!”
I miss getting off the train a stop early on the way home, ending up at Piccino, nursing a glass of wine at the bar while the kitchen makes pasta right in front of me.
I miss hearing John Vanderslice at the Rickshaw on a Tuesday, and walking home savouring a smoke, because my mouth isn’t covered with a mask, and I don’t panic about my hands being close to my mouth.
What do you miss?
