I run and I write. That’s all I do. Some days, accounting to a weak ankle, I don’t even run. But adding anything to my already jammed schedule throws off my whole day. Yesterday, I went to the Met with my mom, and as a result, I was only able to write for two hours, I had a late dinner and I was busy all day. I don’t know how either.
Despite not getting anything done, I had an “anyone living in another city is kidding themselves” moment at the Met, which is essential to continuing to live in New York. Even though the African Art wing always gives me a memory headache from second grade field trips, the rest of the Met is incredible. Sometimes I can’t believe all that natural light and famous art is collected in one place for the price of whatever you want to donate. If I only had twenty minutes to live in New York, I’d go to the roof of the Met.
In other Raronauer’ed news, I’ve been losing a lot of stuff lately: a digital watch, an ipod, $28. But I have been finding is a lot of hair bands and dust bunnies, so I guess it evens out.