...to talk to my best friend.
I spent the day in the Mission District, the Latino neighborhood and also the sunniest and warmest part of the city, and she called while I was walking around. I gave up my plans to go to Dolores Park and grade papers. I pretty much stopped what I was doing and parked myself with an iced latte at a sidewalk table of a nearby coffee shop and we talked for a couple of hours.
For a variety of reasons, we hadn't talked (with the exception of a few quick and fairly vague emails) since sometime in November. I spilled my guts completely. It was only later that I looked around at the other patrons sprawled out enjoying the sunshine at nearby tables before I realized I was revealing the most intimate details of my life on the corner of 17th and Guerrero. But I needed that conversation. It felt like a long drink of water.