Who needs oven racks when you have the sidewalk?

This morning driving into work, the palm trees parted and downtown lay under a dusty heat blanket. 9 am and 100 degrees. These next few days are sure to be something I’ve never felt before. By Friday it will be 115. If I could just stop sweating, thin out the Northeastern blood I’ve built, I might survive the summer.
I’ve started to unpack a few boxes in the apartment, the ones I jammed into my car, dishes and beer glasses and batteries. Already, I have a junk drawer. As much as I went through our crap and tossed half our life, I still have things slotted as junk.
I’ve noticed the apartment needs a few things like oven racks, but when is anything perfect? The list is building, but not quickly.
Have you ever had the feeling that something amazing might happen today? This ball of energy that grows in your stomach to your lungs, heart then brain. I’ve been watching a lot of olympics and it feels like the moment those sprinters set themselves on the blocks. Not the run itself, but the anticipation they’re about to burst their hearts out. I’m pretty sure nothing like that will happen today, but this is the feeling that keeps my eyes open, that drives poems, that keeps me starving and full all at the same time.