Ain't going nowhere
With the transit strike a reality, I'm so glad I don't have to be in an office somewhere. My ex-office is in Times Square, and I'd probably have to walk there in the freezing cold. I'm hoping to work on the NYT from home this week if the strike is still on by Thursday.
I have free tickets to "The Producers" movie on the east side for tomorrow, but that's looking unlikely with no transportation. I hadn't arranged to go with anyone yet anyway.
During the 1980 strike, a co-worker from NJ drove me and others to MetLife on 24th and Park. I remember waiting on Broadway at the crack of dawn (we followed an early schedule to avoid traffic) and seeing Abby's big hair approach in the distance. We took the West Side Highway home and still usually hit traffic. The people in the car were fun, but I hated being dependent on others for transportation.
I had forgotten about that thing that was bothering me a week ago, but now it has resurfaced. I'm just being neurotic. People in the world have actual problems.
Speaking of problems, I was worried about the wiring in the dishwasher. The building had done some work on it, and I wasn't sure it was connected properly. Then I woke up. I don't have a dishwasher. It was all a dream, similar to when I have exams in courses I forgot I was taking and then wake up to realize I'm no longer in school.
I'm hoping to take next week off, if I can finish all my work. Based on today's lack of productivity, that's not looking promising. I did do some work, but not enough. There's still time left in the day, but napping is sounding really good right now.