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.