At 7:02 am, one of my senile cats (the one pictured, in fact) thought it would be great sport to drag it's geriatric cat ass across my head in a repetitive motion to force me upright to tend to their feeding needs. Don't know about you, but two and half hours sleep really doesn't tide me over as well as, say, five hours sleep might. Regardless, this determined feline persisted until I dragged my truly sorry ass to the kitchen and dumped a fishy can of Fancy Feast in a saucer to placate the little beast. By that point, I was wide awake. A cup of coffee was chugged. OK, I can do this--get going.
One of the things I had planned to do today was to attempt a dry run to the Connecticut office in my fine new car, Angus. Yes, his GPS system can probably find the remains of Amelia Earhart, but I was still suspicious as to his ability to navigate the Henry Hudson Parkway. Best to test it, I reasoned, before attempting the joys of rush hour traffic on Monday morning. So I retrieved Angus from his garage and headed out at a brisk pace onto I-95. I flew like the wind. It was fun. I forgot how much I enjoy driving. I arrived at my destination in 42 minutes..a far cry from the two hours the commute was taking each way on the subway and MetroNorth.
I turned around and headed for Manhattan. Angus, fully programmed, clearly announced changes well in advance. "Take the Van Deegan. Stay in the left lane" and so such. When we got to the Bronx, there was a questionable route around Yankee Stadium which almost resulted in an accident (ill placed red light and a lot of traffic). I saw the light late, slammed on the brakes and then heard the painful braking of the car beyond me, following by a five second honking stream and a silent visual of a fist (or was that a finger?) shaking at me. Right back at you, brother. It ain't my fault Steinbrenner forced this outright stupid construction on us. He wants a new stadium? Well, he should get the big fuck you for the re-routing of the byways of our commute.
The high point of the trip involved a stop to a REAL grocery store in Pelham, NY. It was a supersized Stop 'N Shop. It was so large that it had an aisle dedicated to lawn gnomes. It was freaky. I walked it just for the visual bounty, but I was a little overwhelmed. There were a lot of white people.
In the end, a good exercise to prepare for my future days of commuting. That I did so on such little sleep (which I feel now at this moment, trust me) is a good sign.
1 comment:
Ah yes, cats, aren't they a treat? My cat will tap all of the buttons on the clock radio until one of them turns on the radio. Of course this only happens on weekends when, God forbid, I try to sleep in.
Good luck with Angus. Hopefully the traffic going north on I95 won't double your commuting time. Watch out for the fucking 18 wheelers, their drivers tend to sleep during morning rush hour.
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