Human Alarm Clock

Once I have been at the office beyond about the 15 hour mark, another 5 - 15 minutes to get home is really no big deal. I don't race out the office door (when I get up to walk, it is slowly; let's face it, I'm tired) or curse if my cab hits a red light (it is just an extra minute I have to think of how amazing my bed will feel). No matter what, I have missed my quality sleep time. I will be tired the next day. I am just grateful to be leaving at all.

Last night however, when 4 AM rolled around and the end of the night was finally formalizing as an eventual reality, with every extra minute it took for me to get out the door, I sensed fate's strenthening conviction to spite me.

Resolved to the fact that we would not actually spend the evening together, I had promised to wake Edward at 5AM and I had my heart set on doing it with kisses rather a call.

So I was short with word processing as I dropped off a job for them to work on while I was home and I nearly jogged out the front doors of my building onto Lexington Avenue. Standing in the middle of the avenue, and waving frantically for a cab, an empty on duty taxi wooshed right by me - the only free cab in sight. I could hear the first rumblings of fate's victory laugh.

I muttered about the driver's stupidity and crossed the street, as if maybe being just that much farther from the office would help. (After being awake for 22 hours, this seems logical.) Perhaps in fact it did help, as a cab suddenly appeared, swooping from the eastern side of the street over to the western side to meet me.

Fate, this time, was a blessed friend. The lights on Lexington Avenue were green for the entire 20 block trip downtown. I entered the cab at 4:49 and arrived on my doorstep at 4:51. I was in the apartment by 4:54 - time enough to take out my contacts, put Edward's dishes in the sink and throw on my pajamas. Just as the clock reached 5 AM, I lay down beside Edward and kissed him softly on the cheek. I didn't have the heart to tell him just yet that it was time to get up.

Chocolate for Dinner

I am having a fat free brownie for dinner at my desk at the office, waiting for a secretary to make changes to a document that should not be taking nearly as long as they are taking to make. Edward is at home, preparing to leave for DC in the very early morning. He will likely be asleep by the time I get home. So we won't really get to say goodbye. He'll be in DC until Monday night or Tuesday - longer than we have ever been apart since we started living together. I hate not being there with him right now. It makes me yearn for a simpler, more predictable job. It makes me angry and frustrated. It makes me eat chocolate for dinner.

The Mounds

This weekend my parents came into the city to visit. Well, to visit, but really to meet Forrest, Edward's son, who they had thus far only heard about. Forrest is 10 and adorable. Originally, Forrest, Edward & I were supposed to go visit Mom and Dad in the country, but work interfered, so Mom and Dad came in.

Dad coming into the city for a full day is a very rare event. He usually drives in at 7AM to deliver something and is gone by 8AM after not even a sip of tea. So this was quite an opportunity.

We were blessed with gorgeous weather and headed down to Union Square for brunch. On the way down, Dad mentioned that he had been reading in The New Yorker about certain "mounds" in Washington Square Park that the city plans to demolish to add more lawn to the park. I had read the same article, yet when Dad relayed the facts, it all sounded much more impressive. Dads have that power.

So off we went to brunch. After mimosas and bloody marys and eggs all around and as Forrest began practically bouncing off the banquet, we departed the restaurant and decided to go see the famous mounds for ourselves.

You could easily miss them, as they are tucked away at the very back of Washington Square. In fact, we almost gave up, but Dad persisted -our fearless leader-urging, "We can't leave now, after coming so far!" And so we rallied. Dad found them in the south western corner of Washington Square.

The orange fencing surrounding the mounds left no question of their impending demolition. And while unattractive and very likely quite dangerous, given their crumbling, cracked state, I could not help but feel saddened that soon they would be gone. I think we all felt it, as we looked at them and turned to each other and asked, Well, what's the big deal? Can't the city just fix them up? Do they really have to be destroyed?

After about five minutes standing about the mounds, Forrest's mind turned to more immediate urges. Locating a public restroom across the park, he started pulling Edward in that direction. Mom, Dad and I followed, leaving the mounds to their unfortunate fate.

The remainder of the afternoon was lovely.