It’s freezing in New York. Not like chilly or just a tad icy or something, but full fledged holy crap my face is hurting cold. On the bright side I’ve purchased what seems to be something of a commuters uniform here. It consists of a pair of warm cozy boots, a hat, a scarf and most importantly, a full length, down to the ankles down coat. I found an amazing “economy downturn deal” on it and I couldn’t be more pleased with the purchase. It actually keeps my perpetually cold ass warm and anyone that knows me knows that is nothing short of a miracle. In the words of Kel , it is made of win. So the forecast is 17 degrees today and in a few moments I’ll bundle up in everything I’ve got, pack up my running gear for the gym after work, and hustle over to Tribeca.
But for a few more lovely minutes, it’s just me, my peppermint tea, and the winters morning sun streaming into my apartment and painting golden outlines of my window on my wall.
I’ve been told that January is as bleak as New York gets. Well, if this is it then this ain’t that bad. Though I do wait adamantly for morning air warm enough to bike the park in once again. Until then, Paul Simon, Lou Reed, The Pouges, and so many other artists enamored with this city keep my company through the darker days.
