Today I had one of those magical New York moments where everything is beautiful and perfect.


False. Unless its opposite day. Today sucked balls.

Today i woke up with the worst migraine ever. So bad i got sent home from work. BUT my ass still tried to get to work, gagging the whole way there through China Town and Little Italy. In the 100 degree, no air street, at 8am. China town still manages to have that rotting decaying fish smell since they sell them on the bloody street everyday. After passing through that delightful area, I then get to make it to Little Italy where they hose the street down with bleach and water every morning to get the tourist puke off the floor. Normally this doesn't bother me, it barely resisters to me. But when you have a migraine and smells take over, it feels like death. Hot seamy death.

If New York was a person, it would be a large obese man; hot and sweaty. With clogged street's for arteries full of fumes and hot smoke, barely moving at all. He would be loud and demanding and rude, cutting you off then swearing at you for getting in his way. His stench would be the garbage that rots on the street, that little old ladies and the homeless hunch over picking through for empty plastic bottles. He would be restless and bored and ever moving but unimpressed by what he saw. He would see me and laugh at me. He would see me struggling, unknowing and unsure. And he would kick my ass like he did today.