A despondent weather. Early on, its only sallow light came from a vague anxiousness that played with the features of our faces, washing out the colors to make us look waxen and dead. But by tonight it had let go and wept—wept in darkness as though in private relief, like that of finding a loved one thought lost, safe. Who knows why. It still cries.

This morning began with few hours sleep. Then work for a bit and a two-hour class on organic gardening at the P-Patch down the block from my house. Not that I’m sure I can commit to a garden, but the idea of growing vegetables is appealing and the class only fueled the excitement.

Later I helped my boss learn how to use his new laptop. We both learned how to navigate XP. I was surprised to find it accessible. The interface was clunky but choosing the Classic Windows option eliminates most of that. Otherwise, I thought features were grouped in ways that make more sense for people who aren’t intuitive with computers.

And then a much needed trip to the grocery store. Money was late in coming last week and I’ve been holed up, financially inert. Tonight I bought it all, over $100 worth of groceries at two grocery stores. Spending that much at once almost never happens, but I was out of several big-ticket items.

In between stores I went for a hot chocolate at Diva Espresso, where I’ve never been. I’ve wanted to go though. This is my old neighborhood and former neighbors spoke highly of the place. I noticed, at least, that the barista was careful not to scald the soymilk.

Noticed too a familiar solitude. Driving down from Greenwood toward Fremont, past the bus stops and the Lighthouse café. Joan’s house. I used to take refuge here from the troubling downtown. What happened downtown almost never ventured to the sweet smelling woman’s house or the neighborhood, or even that side of the cut.

Almost two years of journal entries were written from the little white room. That’s more than all the entries from Korea, even though nearly all the e-mail I receive about the site is Korea-related. The topic must be more rare and compelling than the quotidian fare of a young North American woman’s life.