Welcome home

I got back to the city two nights ago and began a much-needed break. Seriously, I’ve joked about needing a vacation before, but I’ve never meant it like this. Two days ago I was the most exhausted I’ve ever been, physically as well as mentally. I couldn’t remember the last time I got a good night’s sleep, and I know I hadn’t had a moment to pause, to forget about responsibilities, in over six weeks.

But now I’m home, and it feels great. I’m floating right now, relaxed as I can be, just to have that needed break, to be back in my own bed, and back in my city. It’s great to be in New York again.

Last night, I took the subway up to Columbia. A man I assumed to be homeless got on the 1 train with me at Times Square, holding a stack of newspapers. I caught a glimpse of the paper and recognized it, and I wasn’t sure what he was doing, since it wasn’t one of the papers by and about the homeless that they sell on the subway. But he began hawking it:

“I’m not asking for a handout, I’m just asking for a hand-up,” he said as he walked through the car. “I’m not asking for anything for free. I do have literature. A paper designed with the homeless in mind. Ladies and gentlemen, The Onion.”

What a beautiful city. I’m in heaven, just being back.

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