Rantings and Ramblings Brought on by Cold Medicine

Good morning.

Ah yes, Monday morning traffic in the city.
Amidst the cars and delivery vans, I heard the comforting sounds of kids laughing and playing, stalling on their way to the nearby school.

Kids on bikes.
Kids on skateboards.
Kids on rollerskates.
Kids in strollers.
Kids walking.
Kids being drug along by their mothers.
Kids alone.
Kids two by two.
Kids in groups.

Right now, it's 10:43am and the sun is blasting through the blinds of my windows as I write and look out over the street and in to the giant oak tree blessedly planted right in front of my main window.

The air conditioner hums gently in the background, providing relief from the already 70's temperature.

Last night, a trio of women were sitting on the stoop of the house to my left, smoking, laughing and sharing stories about their individual antics as youths. Great storytelling and I had a front row seat.

I had a great night's sleep and woke feeling very rested.
Coughed up a great big ball of green phlegm (sorry) and can feel that the cold has moved in to my chest. Will continue to rest, read, write and relax in the heat of the day, as I continue to take the cursed drugs from the pharmacy as the infection makes its way through my body.

I accept that this illness forces me to be still, to be sedentary, to rest.  I accept this for now but if it goes on too long, how long is too long, I will scream and throw layers on and run rampant through the streets of Brooklyn.
Would anyone notice?
Would anyone care?
I'm not in the stereotypical New York neighborhood where I could walk out the door naked and people would just ignore me as mentally ill.

Instead, I'll eventually feel better and I'll walk around, dressed like me, acting like me, talking like me, taking photographs like I do, and I'll be accepted as one of NYC mostly normal individuals, with no one paying much heed.

How interesting to realize that the extra baggage I carried from the airport was the thing that forced me in to the kind graces of New Yorkers.

Obviously needing assistance, those young men didn't even hesitate to help me. Good to know I'm so non threatening.
Wait a minute; that is a good thing, right?

Makes me realize that my firm and stanch independent nature in my day to day life likely causes others to think that I don't need or want help. Sometimes I don't, but a lot of times I do and I'm so surprised when others don't reach out to me.

Interesting.

One of my first life lessons during this NYC pilgrimage.

Only when I allow myself to be vulnerable, like standing at the bottom of subway steps, trying to figure out how the hell I'm going to be able to lug my heavy suitcase up the three flights of stairs, with a recent lower back injury to boot.

By having to be vulnerable, people were drawn to help me.
So I can become less independent and more vulnerable, and by more vulnerable I don't mean needy or waifish, wanting or fragile, but open.  By being more open and available, I'm more approachable.

Something for me to ponder for sure.

I know I'm rambling, but I'm sick and stuck in my room and inspired to write.

The other thought I had was that I've been posting images on to my blog, which will debut very soon, images of the house I'm at, the neighborhood, including storefronts, train station sign, etc.

This morning, it occurred to me that I should probably be careful what images and details I post to the public. For example, I posted a photograph of the front of the house with the house numbers. I just now went in and removed the numbers.... How odd to be living in a place where I am aware to be aware of giving out too many details.

Sam the Stalker would love me. I practically provided him with a map to not only my neighborhood, but to my front steps.

It will take me a bit to figure out how to far to delve in to that mindset.  I honestly believe that all people are good and kind and don't instinctively think of those that are ill, bad or would want to do me harm. And I don't want to be worried or paranoid or distracted by those fears, but I do want to be smart.

Lessons, lessons, everywhere.

Now, I'll settle back down in to my nest and continue to read Dan Barry's City Lights, Stories about New York. 
 
If I can't actually can't be out in the city that's right in front of me right now, I can at least read about what it would be like to be wandering the streets that are right in front of me right now.  

If this cold lasts too much longer, I will quickly be approaching desperate to be out exploring.

Thanks for putting up with my rantings....

Don't share with Sam.

Traveling Tina