I've been in Manhattan now since March, and its just starting to set in that...i freakin live here. Every day in this place is like shaking up a Magic 8 ball... its whatever bullshit or ridiculous hope the city feels like dishing out that morning. I could actually wake up in time to wash my hair, it could be sunny outside (rain+NYC=hot mess), there could be a scantily clad, pro-Obama, bull-riding girl outside of your workplace. These are the things that prevent me from rolling over and pulling the covers over my head. [Seriously, you could miss the peeps handing out free cat food outside of Penn Station...where are these assholes when it is raining and you need a GD umbrella, you ask?? CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN]
POINT BEING- I'm realizing that I'm starting to get into a routine- well, as much of a routine as anyone can have in this city....and I kinda like it! Monday means an everything bagel for $1.25, Gossip Girl (DAMMIT JENNY- WTF?!), and a quiet street... Ah, the sound of no one yelling "This is my pizza, you asshole!", no guitars, no angry "punk" kids smoking outside of the tattoo shop, and no vomit hitting the sidewalk. Shit, I actually like Monday!!
Tomorrow will be a good day; if only I hadn't made a wonderful lunch for myself this weekend and then gotten up in a drunken stupor to take it out of the fridge and put it in the pantry (thanks 8 vodkas and a lemon drop)... Guess it'll be one $9 lunch for me tomorrow. Score one for you New York... You Go Glen Coco
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