larabar

I bought three today, just as the sun was setting. I also bought a fillet of salmon and balls of mozzarella stuffed into plastic; cucumbers, watercolors for the boy, and romaine for the pocketbook.
I went to lecture and tried to convince myself to remember how lucky I am, really. (really!).

Then I wrote three paragraphs en espanol, drank 2 litres of aqua and ran for 45 minutes listening to a song about breaking apart.

I ran past 8th and A because I knew someone on 7th and used to know someone on 8th. I ran to Essex where the scientist lives and through the park that belongs to the campus where I used to wish I was allowed to stay past midnight.

I sprinted longer than I think I ever have, from broadway to bowery, and i walked twice past the lighted chicken on the corner, stopping to stretch in front of the dive-y-est bar I have ever (almost) drank in.

I shared an elevator with the kind of woman I wish I was sometimes. I stretched again, up on the fifth, and tried to figure out how to breathe the right way, paying attention to the length of my ribcage, like i think he said to.

dishes, floors, beds, dust cloths and swiffer.

sparkling water and a wine glass to set-- along with hand-painted dishes from argentina and sterling flatware from france tucked inside of napkins, the fancy kind, laced at the edges. The salmon has mangos alongside and the vegetables are julienned, the dressing home-made.

I am too tired, or too hyper, these days, to eat anymore. I can only run hard and run fast in the middle hours of the night.

etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.