The quiet of being at home is really getting old. I miss business lunches and conferences and panel discussions and cocktail events. I miss impatient crowds on the street edging into traffic before the light turns yellow, a subway car so full you have to look left so your nose is not literally in your fellow passenger’s book, and a line snaking out the door at the dry cleaner before 8am. I miss waving to the coffee cart guys on 66th and West End Avenue, even though I’ve never had a cup of coffee in my life (yes, really). I miss the humor of New York City with busses screaming down Broadway and delivery guys on motor bikes who cut them off and then give the drivers the one finger salute. I miss the rotating talent playing at Grand Central Station and that fabulous drummer banging on upside down white plastic buckets who’s usually seated on a fire hydrant outside. But it’s Meetless Monday, so I’m home alone.
I do love my house. (Technically it’s an apartment, but I always say my house.) It’s my castle, my fortress, my oasis, cave, crib and where I’ve urban sprawled from filling my bedroom closets to serious encroachment on my son’s (sorry, dude). And never has my perch above New York felt quite so isolated. Sure the marble droppers upstairs keep me cursing with their early morning relay races and after dinner bumper car action, but for the most part, you could hear a single use plastic bag rustle in my house.
I’m looking forward to seeing people smile again, sans masks! Eating safely indoors. Touching the keypad at the ATM and not immediately sanitizing my hands. Attending a concert at Madison Square Garden. Seeing a fabulous Broadway show. Hell, I can’t wait to see my friends again! So while we all suffer at home for now, we are one day closer to meeting up in person soon.
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