State of Emergency

This morning I woke up at noon. I brushed my teeth, played a Miles Davis CD, drank some hot chocolate and fell asleep again. The second coming was at three PM. My cat’s tail whipped back and forth slapping me in the face with each whip. It was a silent protest to a food forgotten afternoon. She looked back when I opened my eyes as if she heard my eyelashes separating. I bid her good morning and after a short little stretch she forgave my all-too-soon of a catnap and headed towards my face for some mutual head rubbing. I looked outside and what would otherwise have been grapevines, peppers, and bright tomatoes in the summer was a densely white barren uninviting place. I was expecting Chewbacca and Hans Solo to ride by in a snow glider at any moment. I thought to myself how much of a boring fucking day it was going to be. After all it was a “state of emergency” but I figured that after all of the terrorist alerts of the summer, they were probably once again crying wolf and trying to condemn us to home bound boredom. So I then trooped it to Central Park with my best friend for some picture taking and I ended up having my first ever sledding experience. Wow! I had a great time. I hit a tree three times, good thing that it had hay around its base. I also knocked some poor guy, who looked as if he already had a bad run, right on his ass, where he then got kicked in the head by some kid doing fifty in an unregistered sled, poor guy but better him then me. Central Park was beautiful, it was simply amazing. It was the stuff of post cards. I almost want to cancel my meeting tomorrow just to be able to get some more trips down that hill or maybe find one that’s even steeper or higher. What an amazing time! I must have zoomed down that hill like fifty times. Needless to say, my ass is killing me. “State of Emergency”, my ass, well, yeah, I guess that exactly what it’s in.