Blistering Heat

June 2, 2008

I may have discovered today that I am the only person in New York City (boroughs included) that sweats. Seriously. I go outside, I don’t walk more than 6 blocks to the subway, I ride the air conditioned subway for about 5 minutes, and then walk another 6 blocks to work. Upon walking in the front door, I am sweating profusely. Like in a gross way. Like I don’t want to be around myself way.

However, it did not compare to the trek I took uptown to Columbus Circle and then to Chelsea today. After a substantial train ride from Wililamsburg, I had to go downtown to drop off what I picked up uptown. Now, I have NO problem running errands, in fact, I enjoy being busy; However, if anyone knows Manhattan, they know that only 1 train (no pun intended) that goes anywhere near Chelsea, however, the train stopped 2 streets and 4 avenues from where I needed to be. Death consumed me as I limped down the street. By the time I had reached my destination, my slip-ons had created the worst schmorgasbourg of blisters I could have possibly ever experienced. There are blisters on my achiles tendons, on the balls of my feet, and on the outside edge. My current stressor is I don’t know what pair of shoes I am going to wear tomorrow that won’t hurt my feet, not the amount of work I’m going to do.

I got some Chinese food when I got back to the apartment (questionable) and my roommate has yet to come home. (He told me originally he got off of work at 7 last night, but I have yet to see him enter the apartment or notice anything in the apartment has moved from it’s place.) I am exhausted and feeling gross and all I want to do is crawl into bed, turn on my new fan, and pass out. But it’s 7:30, and that would be pathetic.


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