DC
I WILL clean my apartment this weekend. The down side to traveling in these intermittent but seemingly interminable cycles is that my life occasionally feels in disarray. I woke up this morning to the feeling that my suitcase had vomited in my bedroom. Perhaps that wasn't a lovely visual, but that's how it felt. And after almost a year of this, why is it that I still live out of my suitcase for the week after I return from a trip?
I've agreed to meet up with some folks from work for drinks tonight, something I've vigilantly avoided in the past. At my previous workplace in the burbs, my friend circle revolved around my place of employment. Even though I felt that was unhealthy, I am not sure how easy it is to avoid that pattern when living outside a city. And I have managed to develop quite a reputation for being antisocial at work, as a result. So I'm trying to find a middle ground.
You may not be able to see it, but just past the reflecting pool is the newly opened WWII memorial. This picture was taken in June on a sweltering, humid morning. I visited again last week, and it was just the right weather. The memorial was open, and I'm conflicted as to how I feel about it. On the one hand, it's beautiful; there's something majestic about the memorial that sets it apart from the rest of them. On the other hand, that may be my exact issue with it. It almost seemed to peaceful and serene. I suppose it's a commonly held notion that WWII was perhaps the noblest war the US has fought. But a) it makes it seem like we were the only ones responsible for winning it, and b) it was still a war, and in some ways more brutal than the ones that followed it. I think of this memorial in comparison with the Korean War memorial, and something irks me. I just can't put my finger on it exactly.
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