David here still. I am not actually certain for how long I agreed to do this, but I am getting comfortable, so Faustus may have to pry me out with a crowbar.
Today, I did the unthinkable. Note that what I consider unthinkable may not run parallel to the opinions of the rest of the world, for my transgression was to sneak away from my work and down to Starbucks to read a couple of chapters of a novel and consume a chocolate chunk cookie.
My hideously long to-do list and the South Beach Diet have conspired to transform an event that was once commonplace in my life into a guilty pleasure.
Anyway, I did not begin this story to berate myself (too much). I wanted to mention something I saw.
As I sat reading, one of those middle-aged couples that could only exist in New York City came in. You know the sort: they looked like they had just escaped either from a Star Trek convention or a mental institution, sort of funny-looking and not all there. The thing was, they were so deliriously happy, I could not help but observe them.
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