Things aren't nearly normal in our post-hurricane city. Lines for gas are 8 hours long, my two main artery subways are down indefinitely and there are still a lot of people who are really hurting here. The truck is marooned on a side street until the gas hysteria calms itself, and I'm biding my time flushing money back into the economy through excessive use of taxi cabs.
Last week was the 7th anniversary of my accident and I'm feeling so ridiculously lucky. I have a tradition of excessive personal niceness surrounding November 1st that dates back to a certain unemployed trip to Paris. This year it was fancy clog boots and a surprise pumpkin pie from Michael with 7 candles. 7 years and I am feeling good.
Survival is the best present of all and it's especially appreciated this year. Chin up, New York. Humans are strong things. Now let's celebrate our survival and vote!