Fork Me

As my friend, Nandita, is known to say, "Stick a fork in me, I'm done."

OH. SO. DONE.

Left the house at 6:30am to make it to a 7:30 Yoga class. I had an HOUR to make it from Jackson Heights (Queens) to the 65th Street YogaWorks in Manhattan. A whole fucking hour.

Getting into Manhattan? No problem. The 7 train was simply charming. I was in Times Square by 7AM. There, I waited for a 1 train. And waited. The platform crowded. Tough guys and sneakered secretaries shook the 15 degree chills off their bodies and the muddy snow off their boots and still the platform filled. Early bird tourists scratched their heads. People piled onto people. Twenty minutes later, still no 1 train, and now there was no way I'd make it to my class. The MTA was too busy figuring out new ways to rob New Yorkers to make an announcement. We were all just standing there, cold, annoyed, confused, necks stretching out over the platform edge in the hopes of catching sight of the golden beams from an uptown train's headlamps. Nothing but a dark and misty tunnel and the gleaming eyes of sewer rats.

Instead of stretching into Nirvana I went to La Parisienne and drowned my anger in a cup of cheap coffee. I also chewed the soul out of a pile of dessicated home fries and greasy scrambled eggs.

It was 7:30AM. I could've been in bed. I could've been at home watching TV, eating a bowl of oatmeal. I could've been reading a book. I could've been at YOGA, mutherfucking transit system. It's okay. I got some writing done at La Parisienne. Some very angry writing. Then I walked to work. Oh boy. Trudging through muddy snow with temperatures in the teens for 15 minutes...the windchill below zero...I'm still defrosting.

January we had Spring; February we get Arctic wonderland. The temperature has been in the teens every day for over two weeks. I'm Cuban, born and raised in Miami, and yes I've lived up north for over 12 years, but I AM DONE. This is the last winter I'm spending up here. And since I can't afford a winter home in a warm climate, I reckon it's moving time. GRRRRR!

Hey Rey! Getcher suitcases ready, baby!