S. met me at the end of my race, I’d run 4 miles, he’d run 8, I had nutz sports bra chafing, S. had bled through his shoe, we are hardcore, this is hardcore. I ate every single thing on my plate, only four miles, but still: it felt earned.


Among other things, B. and I agree about the new Framework for Information Literacy in Higher Education, also about going to lunch at the same place we went last time. Routine. Is anything better?

I rolled out of the house to the brunch spot on my way to get a pedicure and go grocery shopping because life is absurdly wonderful, very nearly perfect.

I met B. at Nero Doro and had the breakfast special, just like B. had except my eggs were scrambled with swiss cheese. It was really more brunch. A delayed G train meant I was fifteen minutes late, but ladies who lunch give each other dispensations, I guess.

I made a plate of my leftover birthday dinner from K.’s refrigerator and ate it at the table while reading my new book. K. was at a PBAT panel at the high school, the cat was sprawled all over the table. I’m so lucky.

A. came down from the Bronx and met me after the race at Josie’s and we had too much to say, occupied that table at the height of brunch for two hours. The guy at the table next to us ordered three tuna burgers, two for himself and one for his date. True story!

I got the vegetable plate, S. got a burger, I envied it a little but not as much as S.’s frozen mint lemonade which was absurd it was so good, the peas and the company like breaths of fresh air.