First day of Ramadan today, Mecca time.
May Allah be with you, and especially, me.
Things are moving along, little by slow, with selling the house up in NY.
Everything seems to have almost fallen in place, at last, despite many hiccups in an uncertain and treacherous real estate market.
By sometime next week, I may know if I should book a round trip flight for my wife and I up to Westchester for the closing.
This waiting around has been mega stressful.
But once the nut is no longer on us to crank out, then the massive hemorrhaging of the past year and a half stops.
Looking ahead, the next step will be to fix up and sell the crappy attached home we have been imprisoned in for the last 20 years.
That is going to take a few dinero to make sellable, as it is in a state of disrepair. But the profit from selling it should more than cover such expenses, and then some.
In other random news, my weight loss program is going well.
I have dropped fifteen pounds in a month and a half.
I am 5-7 lbs away from 250, the goal of phase 1. I am going to attempt to reach that milestone in 12 days, for that is when I again see my doctor to review whether I should be on statins.
Not sure I’m going to make the cut.
Even if I reach my goal of 190 one day, I will not be content with simply losing weight.
For I seek true mazag in living.
Maybe I should return to Muslim lands, as I am partial to the music of Arabic and rooted to the sense of being of the Mediterranean.
Habibi, I long to feel the soft breeze of that peerless sea soothe my soul.
I await the brave call of the lone muezzin perched on the balcony of a simply-built, ancient minaret — his adhan unamplified, his message unadorned, his vocalization a work of austere beauty.
In such dreams is one reborn endlessly.