City Girl Gone Wandering
Last night I lost my winter hat amidst the whirlwind of a celebratory last-day-at-work bar-hopping spree throughout the East Village. It is a hat I have worn for six years now. That marvelous grey cap followed me through six apartments, multiple jobs, and insurmountable excursions.
But I think it knew I was leaving. It must have sensed that soon I will be moving to a place where its gifts of warmth and style would no longer be necessary. So perhaps it left me in search of a new owner. How can I fault it for wanting a home that differs from its prescribed future of living in a box in my parents’ basement? I wouldn’t want to live there either.
So long, old friend. Thanks for giving me one less thing to pack.