Surprisingly busy, for not leaving the office: got my steps in but some of them came from visiting an unexpectedly close carrier store, in addition to the other mini-schleps built into the newish routine. New meetings and routines to get a hang of, while plotting out another work-from-home Wednesday.

Up early, so early the light played tricks on me or of the east, and more time driving today than in more than a week. Am I out of practice? Slightly. Still, I got where I meant to go and back home in heavy traffic. Now I watch wind blow and clouds gather, and shift back to last week’s transit plan.

An unusual Sunday, beginning with driving, dropping off books, and then more driving, with soft rock and silly commentary cracking me up, and a brief chat with the maternal unit. Not even a guard spying on me at a clothing store could bring me down: after all, I left, but she was still on the clock..

Letting black letters on white paper pages soothe me into stillness, which meant finishing at least one and then another of the library books I borrowed weeks ago, then swept floors and stationary biked and slowly stretched out a week’s walking rigors in the run-up to getting behind the wheel again.

Things just seemed to line up a certain way, from one bus moving so fast it needed a break to stay in time to another bus just getting me to a transbay one home, to other things falling into place with stories and people and even a sense of place. Knowing more change is en route, I still feel ready.

I figured I’d get a break between trainings, so I made it a mile to a grocery store to pick up lunch. Getting there meant not only navigating a mapping app instructions, but walking multiple torn-up tarmac streets where numbers fold in on themselves and the elevated freeway frames everyone underneath.

I made it through most of a very busy day before falling on my ass again. At least this time I was walking to 16th Street Mission BART when my feet caught some crack in a crosswalk on the way. I got my arms out in front of me to brace my fall, and a couple of folks helped me get upright. A close one!

I don’t have my bus legs, which meant losing my balance and falling on my ass when reaching my last stop this morning. Someone asked: “Are you okay?” “I’m fine, just embarrassed,” I said. An hour or two later, I was limping. But two ibuprofen and some walking helped me keep going.

We sat outside with the setting sun in our faces, cars and buses riding along Telegraph Avenue beside us, catching up, drinking, gossiping, handing over a few bucks as necessary, and it wasn’t even a funeral or a wake because I could somehow clearly hear everything nice everyone said to and about me.