Writing Day!

I wake up later than usual. I avoid getting out of my warm sleeping bag. Today is my writing day.

I read some Steinbeck as the sun glides in clear and bright from the east into the back of my Outback, perfectly illuminating my sleeping area. I can linger a bit. If ever there was a place to read Steinbeck, it is Monterey, CA, right? Today is my writing day.

I ponder the sunrise. Wait, that’s east? How could I have confused where east was? Last night I stood at the playground area and looked down the hill. Wasn’t that the ocean? Isn’t the ocean west? I pondered the shape of Monterey Bay and my perch here at Veterans Memorial Park campground. I was 100% turned around. Let’s think about that some more. Today is my writing day.

I complete my Worldle, my Quordle, my Octordle. (Eat your heart out Will Arnett, Jason Bateman and Matt Damon!) Today is my writing day.

I text my sister a picture of the campfire I made last night, and the rice and red beans I made in Mike’s cook pot. I am very proud of it. All my clothes and my car and my bedding smell like woodsmoke now, and I love it. Today is my writing day.

I drag myself out of bed to use the campground restroom. Crossing my arms over my bralessness, I ask a passing ranger for a recommendation to a local coffee shop. He is ready with his favorite - East Village Cafe. I nod and smile as he tells me all about how they grind their coffee weekly, which is infinitely better than Peete’s and Starbucks, who grind less frequently, which invites mold. They also sell Nepalese incense because the owner is from Nepal. Or his family is. I learn more about incense than I ever wanted to know. Rangering must be lonely work. Today is my writing day.

I put on a bra. Today is my writing day.

I drive to East Village Cafe. Way to go, Ranger Chris! Super charming coffee shop, full of good art and comfy seating- nailed it! I carry in my laptop and my phone and my reading glasses. Today is my writing day.

I discover they don’t have wifi. That’s OK, this place is still amazing. I sit happily in a leather chair, resist removing my shoes, and wait for my coffee to cool to a drinkable level. I eavesdrop on a local octogenarian softly and kindly questioning a patron experiencing homelessness. ("So how long have you been at the shelter? And what do you need in order to be able to move out - aside from cash? Would a job help? Let me make a call.") Glory be, aren't people fine?!! Today is my writing day.

I cringe as a talking female duo chooses the table next to me. One of them starts storytelling, loudly and clearly, about a recent breakup and how her so-called friends turned on her. Glory be, aren't people annoying?!! I ponder why she bothers me so much. It's the total disregard for others around her, so stark in contrast to the octogenarian before. Plus, can't she see I'm trying to write? Today is my writing day.

I decide to finally open up my laptop. Since there is no wifi, I decide to quickly download Microsoft Office onto my Mac. I have the product code and everything - this should be easy. Two hours later I give up. Today is my writing day.

I realize my car has been parked in a 2 hour parking zone for 2.5 hours, and that my Bluetti (portable power station) which is powering my Alpicool (travel fridge) is probably getting low. I’ll need to power them both somewhere. I head to my car. Today is my writing day.

I type “laundromat” into Google Maps.. I may as well do my laundry while I power up my devices and write. I drive 10 minutes to Pacific Grove. Today is my writing day.

I pass a Little Free Library and pull over immediately. I trade an old book for a new book. (My new favorite pastime.) Today is my writing day.

I arrive at the laundromat. It’s perfectly fine, but they don’t post the cost of running their machines. That bugs me. Also, I just don’t feel like staying there. I think Google showed another one in the area. I decide to drive there. Today is my writing day.

I pull into the second laundromat and experience a Church of the Weird moment. Next to The Grove Laundry is Michael’s Grill and Taqueria as well as Mountain Mike’s Pizza. (Hi honey, I get it, you are along for the ride!) I take a snapshot of the Google Map, of the strip mall sign, of each of the restaurants. I text my sons, and my aunt, and my sister. Today is my writing day.

I start my laundry and go eat at Michael’s Grill and Taqueria . It’s local, it’s full of locals, and it’s delicious. As I’m getting started on my second blackened chicken taco, 3 California State Park Rangers in full uniform sit down in the booth next to me. (OK honey, I get it! I need to do more research before driving up the coast. I’ll ask them for recommendations.) Today is my writing day.

I move my laundry over to the dryer. I think one more time about all that has guided me here today. I look down the hill and see the ocean. That must be west, right? Mike would know. (My eyes fill. It’s been that kind of week.) I open up the compass app on my iPhone. Nope, North. 0 for 2. Today is my writing day.

I reorient myself, both geographically and emotionally. It's time. I pull out my laptop. I write this.

After all, today is my writing day.