The weather this week has been pretty glorious, at least compared to the crawling horror of last week. Mornings especially, when there’s a slight hint of chill that makes me really happy. My subway station manages to remain horrifically hot and humid, but I think that’s just the nature of this particular station. It’s ok, because my walk from there to work has actually been enjoyable - a first since I started this job. I drank hot coffee this morning and did not want to die because of it.
I had a really hard time getting out of bed this morning for whatever reason. It reminded me of when I was an insane college kid and would stay out all night, then try to get up for work or class on an hour and a half of sleep. I’d end up taking these eight minute naps between, say, brushing my teeth and putting on my pants. I can’t fathom doing that now (much less going to work on an hour and a half of sleep), but I did actually get up to pee about twelve minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off and then go back to bed afterwards for that last precious bit of sleep.
Another thing that’s reminding me of being younger and crazier - I bought a new shoulder bag a couple of weeks ago and finally transferred all my crap into it. The thing is, it’s somewhat larger than my old one. This, of course, means that I end up carrying around more crap. Another book here, another gadget there, and it’s getting pretty heavy. It’s not quite as bad as it was when I crammed the Giant Messenger Bag from Hell with textbooks and lugged that around all day, but it’s no dainty little purse either. But I suppose I’m not really the dainty little purse type any more than I’m the type to carry my lunch in a Victoria’s Secret bag (as every other female in New York seems to do). It’s probably for the best.
Around lunchtime today I hit up a nearby deli in search of something to drink. While I tried to decide what that might be, I noticed they were selling Coke Blak - a curiosity of which I had heard, but not tasted. It’s another of these coffee-cola blends that most normal people are horrified by. I picked up a bottle along with my usual Vitamin Water just to give it a try.
Now, the thing about me is that I already like coffee-flavored soda, so the taste wasn’t as surprising as I gather it is to some people. Actually, it really reminded more than anything of Jolt Espresso - a fabulous god-sent concoction that you used to be able to order at ThinkGeek - only it’s more soda-like with less coffee flavor. All in all, it’s okay, but nothing special. I am neither repulsed nor enchanted, and mainly it just makes me wish I could still find somewhere to buy Jolt Espresso or Manhattan Special Coffee Soda (of which Chris is a devotee).
There was a woman on the train this morning reading a paperback book covered in a brown paper bag, elementary school textbook-style. As the train filled up I happened to end up standing behind her and realized she was in fact reading a romance novel of the smuttiest, most bodice-ripping variety. Presumably her homemade dust jacket was meant to shield the eyes of other subway passengers from the heaving bosom that graces the cover of What an Earl Wants.
Incidentally, it occurs to me that romance novel titles might be almost as awesome as porn movie titles. But not quite, because nothing else could ever be that awesome.
As promised, here’s evidence of the cat’s piglet belly. It’s been a couple of weeks now since his surgery, but his fur is only just starting to grow back. You can’t really see it in this photo, but his neck and parts of his front legs were also shaved.
A little while ago, an unfamiliar man got off the elevator and walked purposefully into my office. Spotting me over the massive expanse of LCD formed by my gloriously plural monitors, he nodded as if in recognition and marched over to my desk. Once there, he handed me a takeout menu for a local Japanese restaurant, and walked back out without a word. I salute you, Menu Man.
