Who says there’s no sun in Seattle?
I am sitting at my desk, so smartly placed in the front corner window of my bedroom. Facing south and west toward James St and 8th Ave, foot traffic between First Hill and the International District slowly trickles past with the same halting cadence as the buses, every beat at least a half step behind. I spy an Asian woman in a bright pink visor transferring bags into bags into bags, a grizzled white man with a diet Dr. Pepper and a surgical mask beneath his chin.
Families enjoy sandwiches, continuing conversations with full mouths. A C-shaped woman swathed in a blue scarf carries a human-sized load on her back. Cars pass, forgetting they were here before they are even gone. Tenderly, a man in a white hard hat and fluorescent orange vest limps past the lunching trio. Back and forth, back to work with the rhythmic drills and clangs that wake me at sun-up daily.
Yes, I did say sun up. The sky is blue, noon church bells are ringing somewhere in the near distance, and the sun is shining in my left eye so sharply I’m forced to squint as I type.
This is March in Seattle. Back home it is 28 degrees and snowing.
The great weather in Seattle is something of a big secret, and here I am spilling the beans. This is a growing and thriving city and there are more than enough tourists and transplants already. As a hotel worker and general member of the Seattle populous, I both look forward to and dread the coming summer months and their influx of camera-holding, Pike Place Market-clogging tourists. But who am I to judge? I was them, in town for a few days before cruising to Alaska, just a year and a half ago.
The family vacation is over. I live here now and I work and I struggle, but I am forging my own way. It isn’t easy, but that’s the point.
This morning I woke up healthy and strong. The sun shone brightly. I felt inspired to read and write so I did. I was also inspired to take a bath, drink too much coffee, pluck my eyebrows, clean the compost bin. I do best when allowed to follow my own whims and desires, traipsing around in circles until everything eventually gets done. I know I have to get better at following orders, at multi-tasking on a different person’s schedule, but I’ll save that for another day.
Today feels like waking up on a lazy weekend in college. My friends are busy and I have work to do, but I can choose when and how I do it. I can rise late and lunch late and work to the sound of drills. I can relax and watch the birds for a while.