Ok so. I took some time off from writing this blog because honestly, we've had a very busy season at work and I just didn't have time to write. How depressing is that?! (Other creative souls know what I mean...)
But I am back in full effect and will soon have to catch you up on a few things I just could not pass up the opportunity to point out. After all, you can't make this stuff up.
It is so difficult to be a germaphobe living in New York City. Let me tell ya. HARD. This morning on the Q train, this man was sitting in the seat in front of me, as I stood and held on for dear life, picking dried skin from the palm of his hand (How dry does one's hand have to be to be able to pick dried skin flakes off the palm??) and brushing them to the floor. Now mind you, I am shorter than many people (all my taller friends just hush up right now!) and can barely reach high enough over my head to hold onto the metal bar transit placed up there for tall people... so I have to stand much closer than I ever want to the person sitting, just to reach the bar and hold on. Because I have to use that arm to balance myself, I have to sit my tote bag on the filthy New York City Subway floor between my feet. Mind you, I often bring my lunch and it's usually in the bag on the floor, packed in containers and wrapped several times in used grocery bags, inside my tote bag. But regardless, when dead skin cell man was flicking his peeled off skin onto the floor, I though I would vomit but you'd be glad to know I didn't. Instead, I compromised my life and let go of the bar and moved my tote, containing my (Thank God!) packaged food far away from his bodily waste issue so it could not fall into my bag. Here's the thing. He knew he was wrong for that. He kept glancing up at me as if he thought I would say something. Ugh. People, come on. Shed your dead skin cells at home. It's bad enough that they drop off of us all day long and create dust and such in the corners of our houses and cause allergies. Do you suffer from allergies? Could you be allergic to yourself? Anyway, I digress. Loofah at home...in the shower. And not on the train near me and my food. I thank you kindly.
It is so difficult to be a germaphobe living in New York City. Let me tell ya. HARD. This morning on the Q train, this man was sitting in the seat in front of me, as I stood and held on for dear life, picking dried skin from the palm of his hand (How dry does one's hand have to be to be able to pick dried skin flakes off the palm??) and brushing them to the floor. Now mind you, I am shorter than many people (all my taller friends just hush up right now!) and can barely reach high enough over my head to hold onto the metal bar transit placed up there for tall people... so I have to stand much closer than I ever want to the person sitting, just to reach the bar and hold on. Because I have to use that arm to balance myself, I have to sit my tote bag on the filthy New York City Subway floor between my feet. Mind you, I often bring my lunch and it's usually in the bag on the floor, packed in containers and wrapped several times in used grocery bags, inside my tote bag. But regardless, when dead skin cell man was flicking his peeled off skin onto the floor, I though I would vomit but you'd be glad to know I didn't. Instead, I compromised my life and let go of the bar and moved my tote, containing my (Thank God!) packaged food far away from his bodily waste issue so it could not fall into my bag. Here's the thing. He knew he was wrong for that. He kept glancing up at me as if he thought I would say something. Ugh. People, come on. Shed your dead skin cells at home. It's bad enough that they drop off of us all day long and create dust and such in the corners of our houses and cause allergies. Do you suffer from allergies? Could you be allergic to yourself? Anyway, I digress. Loofah at home...in the shower. And not on the train near me and my food. I thank you kindly.
Lesson: I need to drive to work...
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