I live in a house full of ingredients. This is good if you like cooking, which I don’t. So I fell back on the ol’ breakfast for lunch standby, ate the last of the bagels.

Open-faced sandwich on a bagel half! In the kitchen! Before taking O. to his last soccer game of the season! Weekend! It felt so weekend.

Nineteen miles. Wow that was hard. I felt like my legs were barely even working by the end of it. Exhausting/exhausted. I made a smoothie and a bagel and sat on the couch and watched college football and ate and it wasn’t enough.

The day was wall to wall transit including the beach and the upper west side and it was all only going to fit if I ate on the run. So why not a post-race lunch? In my apartment, with the cat, wearing sunglasses.

Return to NYC was so NYC, the day’s food a mix of bagel and fried rice from the corner Chinese place, the bagel was lunch, nabbed on the way from doing laundry to the optometrist, where I got contact lenses. What do you think? How do they look?

I ate in my office scooping my lunch into my mouth, staring at my machine, the calendar, what kind of time will I spend in that chair over the summer? When will I get myself out of it for a minute? The middle of May. Almost there.

I copied K. pretty much ingredient for ingredient, but my cheese was less good and I had a bagel half instead of sliced white bread. I ate in my office in between the meeting and the desk shift, looking at my reorganized book shelf, feeling the decks starting to clear themselves. What’s next what’s next what’s next.