The contents of my day off go a little something like this:Reverberating, clanging, banging construction that was shaking plaster off of my ceiling and onto my floor.
At 8am.
Waiting, amidst all the noise, for the UPS man to deliver my new phone, watching the minutes tick away until 2:30 arrived, at which time I had to be at the doctor.
Madness and a rising heart-rate as the pounding upstairs got louder.
Teeth-chattering nervousness about said doctor appointment.
A ride on the 6 train to the Upper East Side.
Blood drawn.
Anxious tears finally spilling down my face as a very annoyed doctor checked my vitals and tried to tell me that I was not, indeed, going to drop dead.
My heart racing and skipping beats.
Interested doctor listening to flighty said heart for a very long time, then hooking me back up to the machine to watch it beat.
Being told I need to CALM DOWN, relax, sit still.
Reassurance that everything is completely normal, but a referral to a cardiologist none-the-less.
Taking the 6 train back downtown and wandering around in a starved daze.
Some potato chips, a banana, orange juice, apple juice and a brownie at Sound Lounge.
A sardine-packed ride on the N train into Brooklyn.
Crabbiness.
Crabbiness.
A trip to the bike shop to finally fix my two-years-flat-tire.
Three new bottles of nail-polish.
One prescription to medically induce relaxation.
One pretty darn good chicken taco (but not as good as the ones at the tortilla factory by Jeff & Candy's place.)
A bike ride back to Dean Street as the sun set in vibrant pinks and oranges.
A manicure by the best boyfriend in the entire universe, complete with purple and light pink tiger stripes.
A bowl of home-made carrot soup.
One episode of Top Chef.
One very tired, extremely spent Molly Wog passing out on the couch.
TGIF!
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