…dippy outpost in California where I might find a place and a purpose. California was not my people. California did not want whatever salty Texan bullshit I had to offer, anyway. I felt a fool, and I was tired and angry and useless, and tired and angry about my uselessness.
nter downstair…ays made me laugh as I guided our dog around the syringes and human shit on the sidewalk out front. The night we moved into our apartment up the street from this little taste of home, Patrick and I tucked ourselves into bed, surrounded by cardboard moving boxes, and peered out the bedside window at the city only to see another couple doing a version of the same, building a palette out of cardboard and sleeping bags in the sustainable, xeriscaped planter downstairs. They would be gone early the next morning, before the Blue Bottle coffee kiosk next door opened to sell $8 espressos.