Ahh, the day after. I ate way too much yesterday. I didn't do much of anything. I laid around, watching TV, catching up on old DVR'd programs I haven't seen, though recorded in March (yea I know). I walked around in my pajamas up until my grandparents came over. And you know what? It felt good.
This morning I beat my alarm clock and wake up to a dark, quiet house. My son is sound asleep. Before I leave, I give him a kiss on his forehead. I'm probably one of the only people going into work today. I walk the seven-minute walk from my house to the train station and I'm the only one. Not another passerby the entire stretch. I get to the train station, which is usually crowded by school kids, people pushing you out of the way to make it to the train before it pulls out, guys standing around calling out "cab" or "taxi", trying to get a fare. Today...nothing. It's silent. The birds weren't even out; they're probably still full from yesterday.
I made it to the train taking my time, not worried if I miss it. The normally overcrowded car had about five people in it...including me. True to form, the iPod came out; selected Prince (or the artist formerly known as, or whatever he calls himself these days) folded my arms and drifted off. When I hit 180th Street, I opened my eyes to survey the car. The amount of people may have doubled (no I didn't count). Had to have been no more than ten people. On a normal day, the car would be SRO (standing room only). I closed my eyes and drifted back off. I woke up at 149th Street. Though more people got on, there was enough room so that people had spaces next to them and no one was standing. By 125th, still no one stood. When I finally arrived at my destination, the famous 42nd Street, I was able to get off the train, up the stairs and onto the escalator without any pushing or even touching another person. This had to be a new record of some kind.
I hit Duane Reade, the cafeteria in my building and make it to my floor where the motion sensors have just turned on the lights when the elevator door opened. Any minute now I'm waiting for Rod Serling to jump out and tell me I've just crossed into the...The Twilight Zone.
I made it to the train taking my time, not worried if I miss it. The normally overcrowded car had about five people in it...including me. True to form, the iPod came out; selected Prince (or the artist formerly known as, or whatever he calls himself these days) folded my arms and drifted off. When I hit 180th Street, I opened my eyes to survey the car. The amount of people may have doubled (no I didn't count). Had to have been no more than ten people. On a normal day, the car would be SRO (standing room only). I closed my eyes and drifted back off. I woke up at 149th Street. Though more people got on, there was enough room so that people had spaces next to them and no one was standing. By 125th, still no one stood. When I finally arrived at my destination, the famous 42nd Street, I was able to get off the train, up the stairs and onto the escalator without any pushing or even touching another person. This had to be a new record of some kind.
I hit Duane Reade, the cafeteria in my building and make it to my floor where the motion sensors have just turned on the lights when the elevator door opened. Any minute now I'm waiting for Rod Serling to jump out and tell me I've just crossed into the...The Twilight Zone.
At my desk, it's clear I'm the only person left in the world. I eat my breakfast and pop in the iPod and continue to jam my music. I'll probably be out of here by 12, 1 PM the latest and get back home for hopefully what will feel like a long weekend. Enjoy!
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