New supervisor, Frankie |
I’m finally getting enough sleep.
I can slow down my reading pace since the library is shut, thus my hold queue is also frozen.
I don’t have to endure subway rides, whether relatively short to work, or longer to/from the upper west side to see shows.
Every time I leave the apartment, I feel a sense of daring and adventure, even if not always in a good way. Going to the grocery store makes me feel like an anarchist; my homemade mask abets that feeling.
I can’t complain about having to go see a long ballet show after I’ve worked a full day, even if this is obviously not a real problem.
Every slight cough from a dry throat makes me think deeply about more serious implications, and appreciative when it turns out to be nothing, as it has.
Thanks to a gourmet food supplier, have discovered nduja—spreadable, spicy salami—and that apparently it will make every dish better.
Scrambled eggs with nduja |
The apartment is cleaner than it’s ever been.
I don’t have to strain my brain setting up my calendar and future appointments.
I don’t have to worry about whether I’ll have my own lane at the swimming pool, or if I’ll get a crappy locker location or a good one.
I don’t have to watch the Mets endure some random, heart-breaking injury or loss or bone-headed trade.
I can watch The Great British Baking Show without guilt.
My cat is getting a lot more attention from me, and vice versa.
What's on your list?
I don’t have to strain my brain setting up my calendar and future appointments.
I don’t have to worry about whether I’ll have my own lane at the swimming pool, or if I’ll get a crappy locker location or a good one.
I don’t have to watch the Mets endure some random, heart-breaking injury or loss or bone-headed trade.
I can watch The Great British Baking Show without guilt.
My cat is getting a lot more attention from me, and vice versa.
What's on your list?