Rough Week

I have been having a hell of a week. It's not bad enough that the heat and humidity have transformed NYC into an enormous crock pot. I swear some ring of hell invented post-Dante is standing in a subway station in summer waiting for a train that never comes, it's like 4000 degrees down there with no fresh air.

Anyway, on Saturday I decided to bake some fresh cookies for a 4th of July party I was going to on Sunday. I make pretty good cookies, if I do say so myself. But taking the first batch out of the oven, I managed to burn my wrist on the rack. Ok, not that big a deal, something most cooks go through at some point, it happens. I got some aloe on it, and it's healing slowly, probably a second degree burn, since it blistered up and hurts a bit. But overall, on it's own, nothing worth mentioning.

On Sunday, after the party, I went out with my friend on her dad's boat for the fireworks, really nice, a great idea. Except that for the first time ever, I got really sea sick. It wasn't very rough out, and we sailed slowly out to Oyster Bay, using the slight wind to carry us, but after the sun and drinks of the first half of the day, it proved to much for me. So I ended up half watching fireworks while lying on the deck feeling gross.

I made it to Tuesday uneventfully enough, and on Tuesday, only cut my finger while dicing up some vegetables for a salad. Very minor injury, though a cut on the tip of your index finger is pretty annoying.

And then last night, I went out for an evening walk, since it had slightly cooled off and I was tired of sitting inside. I had my ipod, I was just wandering, it was nice. Then walking up sixth avenue, two men were coming toward me, an old man with a slightly younger one holding one of his arms, like he had some trouble walking. I went to the right, as people usually do when passing on the sidewalk, and they kept getting closer, so that I was all the way up against the wall of the building when we passed. And out of nowhere, the old man balled his fist and punched me in the boob. I yelled OW because it seriously hurt, and I was totally shocked. I looked back, and the two men just kept walking, didn't stop or say anything. I kept walking, with my arms curled up, just wondering what the hell had happened. Clearly my zen walk was ruined.

So here it is Thursday, the week isn't quite over, and I'm kind of afraid of what is in store for me next. After you get punched in the boob by a stranger on the street, I really don't know where your week can go from there. Of course, leaving my apartment this morning, I did open my door to find a giant roach trying to crawl in. I had to stomp him. He was gross. Maybe that will be it for today, at least I hope so.

Please wish me luck.