I’ve not been as successful as I hoped keeping up this blog, and I’m sorry. I have a good excuse. I’ve been in bed. Coughing. I can’t type and cough. Someone gave me a bad case of bronchitis (which I’ve never had in my entire life) and I was laid up. I slept a lot. I had to lay off the writing. Otherwise it would be: Got up, had tea, decided to go back to bed. Got up, coughed, blew my nose for about 5 minutes. Must lie down for just a minute…zzzzz.
Finally ventured out to The City last week. Job hunting. The temp agency I visited had to be a movie set from a cheesy 1964 detective movie: dim lighting, worn carpet, grease-stained walls, not a magazine in site. Silk flowers and no wi-fi. I should have bailed when I saw the ‘typing test’ at a great big Dell computer from the ’80s. The test administrator had baggy pants and athletic shoes. His shirt was very wrinkled. I know New York has its own style, and it’s not like Minneapolis, but does clean have to be an option?
Afterward I met a friend at Washington Square Park. He bought me a bottled water and a banana and we sat in the sunshine and listened to a jazz combo. Walking back to the train, I was surprised to note something: Manhattanites don’t dress all that great. I was anxious about the wardrobe I packed – would I be cool enough to walk among them? “Don’t worry,” my daughter told me. “We don’t dress any better than Minneapolis.” (I wanted to remind her of the pink appliqued kitten sweatshirts there.)
Exciting as my day was, it felt good to come home to my lovely, peaceful neighborhood. I had to take a nap.