Day 3 of the strike: another walk across the Queensboro. It’s amazing how we are all creatures of habit. I saw the same blonde guy in a black leather jacket rollerblading past me as I left my apartment and started my walk the exact same time I did yesterday. Made the same time I did yesterday to the office too. Amazing!
I adjusted my clothing appropriately for today’s walk. Instead of wearing my lovely 2/4 length, camel colored coat, I wore my windbreaker on top of a t-shirt. What a difference — I no longer felt encumbered!
These pictures are taken at the foot of the Queensboro Bridge, on the Manhattan side. The Red Cross Disaster Relief van provided hot chocolate for all commuters during the strike and I believe they were at other bridges in the city as well. Too bad I can’t take in chocolate and sweets! Dang.
These last two days in the office, I’ve been battling with my self-discipline in not eating an awesome chocolate cupacke from the Buttercup Bakeshop made available by a colleague who was given a half dozen yesterday. There were 3 remaining in a box he left behind in the office refrigerator at 9am this morning, untagged (When you don’t put your initials on food in the office fridge it means that anyone can lay claim to the food. And trust me, the people in my office are not shy about eating and taking…ha!). And I must admit, my resolve broke down by 10 am and I ran to the refrigerator and found that all the cupcakes were gone! The person who took the last cupcaked didn’t even have the courtesy to toss the box from the fridge (no home training, seriously)! So I walked away and just helped myself to some water. Bah! Now, I’ve been jonesing for one of their red devil cupcakes. Ugh. I can’t take it!!! Sooooo good!!
By the time I left the office at 3:45, the strike was declared over and transit workers were returning to work. By late this evening, I heard the usual rumble of the N or W train by my apartment. It’s a welcome sound.