Escape.

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I am certain that in some Groucho Marx movie everyone is stuffed into a tiny room aboard a cruise ship. It’s a way better gag than stuffing frat boys into a phone booth or clowns into VW. It is also what happened this morning outside my house. The stuff we’re sending home went into a wooden crate roughly the size of a 2-person elevator. Disaster. I would be more upset but I just found the Groucho Marx clip on youtube and am feeling way better about my packing predicament. That guy is funny.

After the trauma of this morning, I’ve holed myself in the library to work. I’ve made no secret about my love for the library. But today’s library used to be a mansion in Cleveland. It is all cobble-stoned and low bridges and beautiful grounds. My Zionism is wobbling. As I work, I’ve got pandora on in the background  (no longer available in Israel). I did my final Costco run this morning. Eitan and I stopped for coke slushies. And just as I am about to stay in this library forever more, I get a message from my most-Zionist friend reminding me why I love what I love. I find out another friend is pregnant and I’ll be home in time to watch her get more and more pregnant. I remind myself of an upcoming so fun wedding. And slowly slowly I am re-remembering my life, my house, my friends. Everything that can be squished into this gorgeous library’s sun room and slowly push me out of this nirvana and back home.

But damn if I’m not going to miss the libraries.

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