Thursday

I've used the word bittersweet frequently over these last weeks, usually in regard to the feeling of warm regret I feel when I am spending time with dear friends I'll shortly have to say goodbye to. This is that final week. The goodbyes are beginning to mount bittersweetly. Already, I've bid fond adieu to friends, places, and many of my worldly possessions. At the risk of comedy: today was my last DC housekeeping day. By next Thursday's housekeeping visit, I'll have landed in Ho Chi Minh City (assuming the housekeeping ladies enter the unit after one when they are supposed to. If they barge in at nine like sometimes, I'll still be on approach). I didn't care about this at all. I left home for a Baja Fresh lunch and to read more of the brick. When I returned, I noticed that housekeeping hadn't been by yet, and was a little annoyed. When they did show up, two of them, they clamored about making a big fuss over the empty unit. One of them left to work on another room, and the one who remained was finished ten minutes later. There is very little to do, now. Since there's a large number of housekeepers contracted by this complex, I frequently don't recognize the one in my apartment. I knew today's, though. She's a lively talker, very friendly and memorable. This woman asks a lot of questions: "where are you going next?" "Where did you get this?" "¿Oh, you are a fan of Pedro Infante?" Today, I had to answer that I was moving, that this was the last I would see of her. She took a moment, dried her eyes and told me she was going to miss us as she hurried out the door. Bittersweet housekeeping day. [Cavin]