I sit here right now typing from a cafe in Herzliya. It’s a familiar cafe. I walked through the doors and my eyes were immediately drawn to the tables that are close to electrical outlets, because in Herzliya, the most important thing in a cafe has always been being able to plug in your laptop.
It’s been a while since I’ve been in Herzliya. It’s weird. A lot of stores have closed, or opened. A building that was under construction is now complete. But today is my “make sure I have money so I can let myself spend some of it” day, which means I have to be here in Herzliya.
It’s a weird day. I knew I had to wake up early in order to get here in time to get things done, so I tried to go to sleep early. But all that did was make me not fall asleep at all. I should have known better. On the plus side, I got a bunch of writing done (not for this blog, but if you ask nicely in real life I’ll email you the work-in-progress).
But I’m kinda sleepwalking through today, and wondering if there were any good off-campus places to sleep in Herzliya when it was raining out. Don’t get me wrong: I’ve already got a lot of important things done even though I’m only semi-conscious. Just, this is a really weird mood to be in. Particularly when revisiting an old haunt.
The main street in Herzliya, for those not familiar, is Sokolov. I did a decent bit of wandering up and down Sokolov today, poking into stores, looking for something with an overhang. At one point I got fairly close to the office of my former landlord. It’s a glass-front office, so he’d be able to see me from the street.
“But ah,” I assured myself, “you’re no longer a soldier, so he probably won’t recognize you out of uniform.” And only after that thought completes does it occur to me that the last time the guy saw me, I wasn’t a soldier yet. “No, wait,” I tell myself, “I’ve grown my beard out and let my hair go scruffy!” Again, the thought then occurs to me that that’s precisely how I looked the last time he saw me.
Finally I just decided that after almost three years, he’s probably forgotten me, and I got over it.
And then I made my way over to one of the four or five cafes that are collectively responsible for about half of the papers I wrote in college.
S’a weird day.