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mayhapYou'd be surprised what an iPod can do for your mental health. (Perhaps you can get your insurance to pay for it on that account ....)
Ordinarily, if I were waiting for a 6 train at Spring St., and I waited for fifteen minutes and a 4 train running local came by but it was too jam-packed full of people not wanting to get out at Spring St. for anyone to get on, and then a three-quarters full 6 train came by but it honked at us and wouldn't stop, and it was a good half-hour before I could squeeze onto the next 6 train, I would have been up in arms calling for the messy and painful deaths of any MTA employees I could get my hands on. As it was, I just leant against a pillar and twiddled around and listened to music quite happily.
Best completely self-indulgent paycheck I ever spent, I tell you. Not that it has a lot of competition, as I'm an inveterate tightwad.
The purpose of my subway venture being groceries (and funny how having an unlimited MetroCard makes every venture involve the subway, somehow), I have groceries. Groceries which extend beyond a quarter of a tub of cream cheese, a jar of pickles, and a box of couscous, which is a Good Thing, as I found the former options rather limiting.
Now I do not know what I shall do with myself. I should probably work on my takehome exam since tomorrow I have agreed, quite rashly, to meet my cousin Heather at some church in the Bronx, where we will hear a speaker whom I will hopefully not desire to pelt with rotten fruit, because my cousin has heard such good things about him. It's hard being the cynical agnostic in the family.
Ordinarily, if I were waiting for a 6 train at Spring St., and I waited for fifteen minutes and a 4 train running local came by but it was too jam-packed full of people not wanting to get out at Spring St. for anyone to get on, and then a three-quarters full 6 train came by but it honked at us and wouldn't stop, and it was a good half-hour before I could squeeze onto the next 6 train, I would have been up in arms calling for the messy and painful deaths of any MTA employees I could get my hands on. As it was, I just leant against a pillar and twiddled around and listened to music quite happily.
Best completely self-indulgent paycheck I ever spent, I tell you. Not that it has a lot of competition, as I'm an inveterate tightwad.
The purpose of my subway venture being groceries (and funny how having an unlimited MetroCard makes every venture involve the subway, somehow), I have groceries. Groceries which extend beyond a quarter of a tub of cream cheese, a jar of pickles, and a box of couscous, which is a Good Thing, as I found the former options rather limiting.
Now I do not know what I shall do with myself. I should probably work on my takehome exam since tomorrow I have agreed, quite rashly, to meet my cousin Heather at some church in the Bronx, where we will hear a speaker whom I will hopefully not desire to pelt with rotten fruit, because my cousin has heard such good things about him. It's hard being the cynical agnostic in the family.
