Where I Live Now

I've been living in Madison, Wisconsin, for just over two weeks. That's long enough to be forced into figuring out the bus system and where to do my laundry, and definitely long enough to be bummed about not having a job.

It's also long enough that my internal clock has gone bonkers. Without a job, or any real schedule, I've been sleeping nine or ten hours a night, waking up tired at eleven a.m., and just starting to think about supper at half past nine in the evening. It doesn't help that my room only seems to get sunlight at around 5:38 in the morning, when I am not remotely ready to open my eyes.

Today, I aim to reset my body.

This is my plan: a little exercise. Healthy sized meals. Getting out of bed in the morning before 10 a.m.

I started with a run down the next street over, although calling it 'running' is maybe too ambitious. I have an embarrassing tendency towards the golf jog, which is little more than than a glorified shuffle. But today, it's better than doing nothing.

Where I live, on the isthmus between Lake Mendota and Lake Monona, it's only a few blocks from anything. From the corner of my street, I can see the capitol building. Three blocks over is James Madison Park, where I can watch the sun set over Lake Mendota. In the opposite direction of the park is Willie Street, which is home to a lot of restaurants and other small businesses: a baker, a butcher, a glassblower, a cat-centric pet shop.

One street over from my apartment, though, is mostly residential homes shaded by friendly, giant trees. There are neat gardens, and fancy gardens, and a lone front yard with nothing but thigh-high weeds. I passed a school with a small community plot full of young tomato plants and raspberry canes straining against their ties. There are houses of all sizes and the occasional apartment building. More importantly, in the middle of this city, with its population over 240,000, I can do my little shuffle-run down a street where the loudest noises are the birds calling from the tree tops. It feels surprisingly like home.