Tuesday

Terrible Tuesdays

I've officially been back in the Big Apple for all of seven days and this has been my week:

I found an eaten chicken wing on top of my truck.
I have been completely incapable of giving myself a clean shave and have walked out of the house more than once with shaving cream in my ears.
Every train I've gotten on has either arrived late or broken down.
On my way home yesterday, I endured being smashed between two senior citizens on the subway (a man and a woman) who both sat with their legs spread wide like they had packages the size of coconuts. The feel of their old bodies against me made me want to vomit.
Over the weekend, on a trip to Rye Playland, my daughter decided to be terrified of me the entire day, which made me feel and look like the worst father in the world.
The cat has only allowed me one night of uninterrupted rest.
I bought an air conditioner only for the temperature to drop below 70 at night.
This morning, in a scene straight out of The Exorcist, my daughter (who has a slight cold) spit Robitussin in my face as my wife and I struggled to give it to her.

Gotta love it.