What I miss...

That's the view from my old apartment.

I am missing NYC terribly. But even more than any one aspect of brooklyn or my job or my friends or my apartment or the food or the diversity or the grandeur, I miss myself. I am not, can't be, who I was. And I liked who I was. I miss me. I'm not sure who I am here. I am finding out.

The other night I found out I still like rum on the rocks with lime. Thank goodness for that.