Morning metaphors on the MTA


I’m just really hoping she’s got something stronger than San Pellegrino in that can, or else it makes my morning toxin-fest look like I’m imbibing free base jet fuel.

My breakfast: Cheerios, iced coffee made from the mud Dave brews in our classic drip electric, and the new Daft Punk record. There’ll have to be more coffee.

When I go to work in the morning it feels like I’m leaving my heart at home, in the smile of my little son. I’m feeling like a perpetual duality, always having to shut off one chamber of my heart to open up another, close the receptors in one hemisphere of my brain to allow the receptors to fire in the other side. I’m like an amphibian who can’t wander too far inland lest I never find my way back to the waves. But I hear the forest calling as loudly as the sea.

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