My day starts here:
Yes, I really live in this building.
On Tuesday and Thursday mornings, I walk to Grand Central Terminal. It takes 12 minutes if i use the overpass.
If use the overpass, I will be on the north (right, from this view) side of the street. And all the coffee/sandwich shops are CLOSED before 7:30am. Those ones on the south side? Open.
This means that to get lunch, I have to use the steps - and then try to CROSS 42nd street at rush hour, which is the exact opposite of fun.
Actually arriving at GCT is glorious. I do not enter the station between 3rd and Lex, even though it would save time. Instead I enter here:
Then I get to walk through here:
Of course, then I end up here:
And I often see one of these:
Which is less upsetting than you might think. I like to play "Rodentspotting." Because rats are people too.
And then of course the train arrives. I board. I disembark. I teach grammar and punctuation.
And while I teach, I feel all happy inside, knowing that although my two mile commute to Panic Hire U takes me nearly an hour, and my students are more interested in firearms and crystal meth than they are in, oh, the semi-colon, I will someday get an actual paycheck from Panic U* - and then I will be able to pay my monthly $1400 rent for the 200 square feet, river view and two burner stove that gives Cat-head and me shelter in this big bad terrible awful so good I can't leave even though it would be a really smart thing to do city. What is Cat-head up to right now? Oh, you know. Jigging in the shower and singing about himself. Listen carefully. He is audible from here to China.
~Resisted, for your sake, strong urge to post another picture of my Cathead. Scroll down. He's still there. He is still singing his song. About himself.~
*They paid me on Thursday, a handwritten check for roughly two weeks worth of work. Hello... we are in week 9 of classes. Panic sucks.