Nomad Cafe seems appropriate a place

to be on the Internet looking for a room of my own. In 20 minutes I'm off and running, someone's place to see, to sublet. Really I should be looking for a back up place now. If this doesn't work I'll be back at it tomorrow, and yes, alright, there's little fiction going on here...
waking up this morning I remember waking up last night after an hour and a half of sleep. Why was I so angry leaving Trieste? As I awoke from last nights disjointed sleep time -Myla had been wondering room room to room and circling past me talking to herself as I slept - I sat up, it was a sort of ahha, and after only so little sleep. 'I need somewhere to call my own', at least as a room with a door for me to be behind, away from mad moments and fatigue. It's enough, enough of living out of suitcases after seven months. It's not my nature to be out of nest.
The anger, yes, I figured it out too. Only hiding a belief that won't serve me. Fatigue must do that, pick up old thoughts, old ways of being and own them, as I notice those thoughts I will knock them away, I want no limits on what I can do. I will inspire myself, I will be that little engine that could that I read my children nightly, yes I can, yes you can, yes we will, and spread the word, meet to greet, smile, and become my own world of self sufficiency here in Berkeley. Find some women to write with. I just need to remind myself, pioneering is fun, at times a challenge, growing within and it's not for the faint of heart. Urge me on if you see me on the path, it's a quieter, less intimate trek than I thought it would be, but ah so rich, loving, loving, there I am. an yes more photo's there must be one a day.