Forward into unforeseeable

It's hard to process that in one week's time I'll be living somewhere else after calling the same zip code home for eleven years, the second longest place I've veer lived after my birthplace that I haven't lived in or seen in forever.

I went to the beach today for perhaps the last time in a while to see the pacific. As with everything I've witnessed in the past year, very few people where there in the morning which always made it a perfect pandemic escape.

Spring sprung and the plants and flowers were valiant in their efforts despite the unending blanket of smog I cannot wait to escape.  I should be packing. I should be doing a lot of things. But I'm feeling a sense of existential paralysis despite an unusually overwhelming uplift on an Easter Sunday. I don't know that it means any more than it always has, but for some reason the feeling is deeper.