Parking. Parking. Parking.

On Tuesday I found a parking place about four car slots down on the opposite side of the street. It pays to leave SFSU at a reasonable time, say, by 5pm. I’d forgotten just how impacted residential parking in San Francisco is.

Wednesday I was even later getting to the convent. The sisters asked if I’d eaten (“No”). I parked in the driveway, blocking the sidewalk. I unloaded my school bags (these four bags must weigh 60 lbs easy!), and said, “I’ll be back later tonight or tomorrow once I’ve found a parking place. Please pray for me.”

They laughed and assured me I’d find one close by. Um huh. Right Sr. C. Sure. 7:30pm? “Tony, Tony look around. There is sometihng to be found.” (Tony = St. Anthony. He’s the guy to pray to when you need to find something. At least that’s what I’ve heard.)

Wonder of wonders – after only two loops around the block I found a place on Dolores.