Today was a new low
I just tried to wash the windows in the NYC apartment I've lived in since 1995. Twenty-nine years I guess.
I started in the dining room. I opened the windows and started on the upper pane.
I couldn't finish. I've washed that window perhaps 100 times, and this will be the last. There's an open house next week and I won't be here. Then my home will be sold.
I don't know where I'll go. I don't have a reason or need to be anywhere.
Here I am crying so loud I'm embarrassed, with a spray container of eco-Windex in my right hand and a paper towel in my left.
I am not able to do this job.
I don't know how much longer it will be before I'm not able to do any jobs.
I'm overwhelmed by sadness. One half of a dining room window is clean and the improvement in light is appreciable. It looks beautiful outside in Riverside Park. Spring is passing into early summer.
I have no reason to continue. I hear the call to "stop" and be quiet all the time now. To honor myself as I disappear. I did the best I could but in the end this journey has been a purposeless failure, and I'm so tired.
One window pane partially cleaned. My final poetry to the world.
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