Flighty tells me that so far this year I’ve been on 33 different flights, hit 17 airports, and spent nearly 175 hours on planes.

(Next flight: Friday.)

Swarm ‘congratulated’ me for my four-week streak at airports.

(It’ll be five shortly.)

In response, because it’s been A Lot, this weekend I tried to keep it local. I showed up at the neighbourhood pilates studio for the first time in two months. I went to the Pakistani coffee-and-pastry spot twice for breakfast and had dinner at a nearby Italian restaurant. I met a friend for brunch a couple of subway stops away and then Citibiked home.

I did all of the laundry and cleaned the bathroom and dropped off some dry cleaning to be ready for Fall Coat Season. I washed my makeup brushes and my hairbrushes (if yours haven’t been cleaned in a while, consider a warm water and Dawn mixture. It works.) I sat on the couch and started to watch Talamasca while folding the many piles of laundry. I started packing for my next trip, which mostly involved thinking deep thoughts about outfits appropriate for multiple climates and not so much actually putting things into packing cubes.

Local weekends: strong recommend.

Attribution

I’m alive you say, a little embarrassed
to be no one in particular, a soul

nested in a body
of men and women.

Someone is singing, someone is drinking
tea that is sweet and bitter.

It’s a good thing you say,
drinking in the light

of men and women,
men and women made of light, nested

in the sweet and bitter.

— from 9th and 2nd by Joy Ladin