Almost empty

I write this sitting on the floor, one leg tucked under my butt and the other knee bent. It's not that different from how I tend to sit when I'm home with the family having dinner in the kitchen. I have weird sitting poses.

But tonight it's for a different reason. The desk and TV are gone, leaving me to sit on the floor and blog. I could read, but the lamps are gone, too. But I'm not in the dark. The ceiling fixture provides enough light.

My friend and drinking buddy for the last year picked up the TV and the desk tonight. The desk was his anyway, and I had to get rid of the TV. He asked if I was feeling sentimental. About the apartment? No. I have no attachment to this smallish studio. It collects dust bunnies too easily, and the bugs in the beginning turned me of really fast.

I went for my last run tonight on the National Mall. It was a little warm to feel sad. Running in our nation's Capitol was beautiful while it lasted. But I look forward to connecting with my running buddies and the Mississippi River this summer.

Perhaps what I'll miss most is the newsroom. That was fun. I had a fantastic opportunity out here. People my age don't often get to do what I've done during the past year. And of course, I'll miss the people. I didn't hang out with them outside of work at all -- they had families and other lives demanding them home early. But I'll miss stopping by their cubicles and talking their ears off.

So as I'm planted on the floor, I'm not that sentimental. There will be days when I miss Washington. But I'm ready for the next big thing.