Here is something I’m really enjoying about living in New York: Fresh Direct grocery delivery. I am a terribly impatient shopper, and yet I love eating. Historically, this means that I spend a lot of time being frustrated in grocery stores, trying to remember exactly what it was I wanted to buy. And then I get home, and I have no beans. It’s very sad.
Now, however, if I forget something, I can just add it to my queue for next time. Or better yet, keep a list. I know that you can keep a list for the regular store, but work with me here, people. I’m an Internet person, and I just find this easier.
Also, a nice man comes and carries my items up the stairs for me, several boxes at a time. I give him five dollars, and he thinks I’m neat. Then he goes away and I unpack cheeses and fruit and crackers and sour cream and salsa and butter and bread and milk and juice and beer and cereal and peanut butter and soup and cereal and olive oil and handsoap and I feel like a rich person. It’s fantastic.
I’ve decided that my little apartment is a ship, and I am stocking it for a voyage. I live in the LES, which is pretty loud, generally. But I am at the back of the building, so I don’t get the street noise, and the nightclub below only seems to be busy on the weekend. So I climb out my window and sit on my teeny fire escape with a beer and it’s nice and quiet. I look at the stars. And sometimes there are some.