I've never hated Mondays. I've rarely had one full time job and never one with a Monday through Friday routine. I used to dread Sundays in high school but those milquetoast afternoons were always worse than Monday mornings. If you know me at all, you may know I rarely take a day off and it is almost never planned. I have a schedule for sure, that I write and re-write in my planner. I even plan a day off.
The past few months have been rough--Andy's schedule is constantly shifting, and I have been feeling the lasting effects of loosing a good friend with secrets. I love rain and hibernating and baths but lately the noise of the city and the noise in my brain have me craving wide open spaces of light. We rode to the park last week where I discovered the sketchiest day time bathroom outside a BART station. I read on the couch last week. Both were good. But not wholly satisfying.
This morning we headed out unplanned to breakfast. The coffee seemed stronger and the sun warmer so I convinced Andy to adventure through the shipyards of the port of Oakland to the most expansive and underused park in Oakland. Views of San Francisco across the bay, of the bridge of the hills to the southwest. It is a weird oasis, quiet and large, mostly used by Canadian geese. Benches face the Bay, there is an observation tower and it isn't a Superfund site as I suspected. I do not know why it is here. I have written about it before but every visit is a reminder that I am not long for the city life, even with donuts and coffee. I'll share my secret place with you again because there is room for us both. And if you ever want company to see the sun set, I'm in.