It's been something like 68 days since Hurricane Sandy. That is a mind boggling reality. It feels like so much longer. I knew when the storm crashed into my apartment that I would never go back-but it's definately an adjustment. I have slept on friends couches, stayed in hotels, and collected bits and pieces of my belongings-which mainly consist of cotton. Or H&M. H&M is amazingly sturdy. I am definately going to make a note of that. I actually landed in an apartment a mere six blocks from where I lived. And yet-it's WORLDS away. I rarely even go down to my waterfront anymore-although that's probably because it's too cold, and I have developed a severe aversion to being chilly. I veer between being grateful I am ok, and resenting everyone's questions about FEMA-which annoys me as much as being asked how much money I got for my car accidents. Not enough. In my case, yeah-it will help. But I still am living in a strange place with people I don't know, and, to me? It's a mixed adventure. I want to see the future and embrace the new beginnings, but it still feels like I live in the tail end of a disater movie. I am not even totally sure I am the heroine. I guess technically I am. I am a little amused by what survived my Tsunami. A Kindle-which is a godsend. My perfume collection-well, mostly. My teddy bear-which survived a washing in horribly hot water. And skinny jeans. Out of all my clothes???? I never liked skinny jeans. It's so petty to be like-but, but...THEY'RE SKINNY. But I feel like that. Although they go with my boots, so what else does a girl need? I can't believe it's only been 68 days.