First

I am tired, and my plane leaves in 5 hours to go to Dallas, to see my family, and to see my friend Tori get married. The last time I was home was October, and I have pre-travel anxiety just a little bit. But not as much anxiety as the time I flipped over my laundry cart in Bed-Stuy shortly after I moved here. I was walking along, trying to go get my laundry done. I moved here in February, and have been told that this past winter was mild. Since I most recently moved from Little Rock, AR, the winter did not feel mild. I was still getting used to going up and down four flights of stairs, and carting my laundry and groceries up and down the same. But I really wanted to stay on top of things, so I got a laundry cart, loaded it up, and starting walking to the laundromat. My cart hit a rut; in the split second before the next thing, I basically thought, "If I nudge this cart with my knee, and keep walking, it will come out of the rut." Though this would have been ideal, the cart stayed in the rut and my momentum propelled me in a flip over the cart. I'm used to tripping over my own feet, since I'm tall, but this was pretty much a full-on flip. It happened right in front of this massive SUV parked right beside me. An old lady tried to help me, but I was kind of in shock, and told her I was fine. She said, "Honey, it happens to all of us; the same thing happened to my daughter." Someone ought to do something about the ruts, or the laundry carts, or both. Because this was shortly after I moved here, and the "I moved to New York!" adrenaline was wearing off, and I was cold, I quickly developed a thundercloud over my head, and was almost crying by the time I was loading the washer. I had to get control of myself, but since this time, I've seen a few people crying on the streets or in the subway, and think maybe it would have been no big deal for me to cry in the laundromat and worry about getting a Staff infection in the gash in my arm from the germy sidewalk. It all worked out, and in retrospect I laughed, because it probably did look really funny to anyone else. I didn't get a Staff infection, I do have a scar down my arm, but I moved out of that neighborhood, to a second floor apartment, and the laundromat is right across the street, so I have cut the cart out of my laundry routine. So things work out in New York. I still wonder if I am the only person who notices the number of people crying in public, though.