Hot wheels/cold wheels

It’s been a year since I’ve been like everybody else. In my career, I’ve worked odd hours, never really having to fight maddening crowds of commuters twice a twice. When your workday starts mid-afternoon and ends when many are thinking about sleep, you get used to it. During one stretch, work ended at 12:30 am, a taxi waiting to whisk me home. Or the bar. Either way, I arose from sleep the next morning just as most were settling into their cubicles.

Those days are gone.

Now, it’s a routine, like everyone else’s. Up, walk to the train, subway, office, subway, train back home. A hamster wheel. Granted, one that is now based in Midtown Manhattan, but a hamster wheel nonetheless. Easy to get used to, easy to get hypnotized to. Disconnecting, even for a while, is crucial, and that why there’s the jazz, and the drives to the shore to alleviate the pressure. Something to make the hamster wheel livable.

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