Manhattan, at least south of 39th Street, has no power. I live on the 21st floor of a building. I have made two trips already today to go up and down for supplies. Followers of this blog know that I like running and exercise, and all that training comes in handy around floor 15, when I am panting and wishing for a death that never comes.
This is me, with my new best friend, my Dora The Explorer flashlight. It was the last flashlight Walgreen's on 36th Street had in stock two days ago. It goes with me everywhere. I love her.
Apologies for not wearing any make up in these photos. But we're in a state of emergency, and I mentioned my numerous romps up and down the staircases. For some reason, I seem to be the only person I see going up. Everyone else is always coming down.
Electricity is the ultimate commodity these past 24 hours, and East Side residents, such as myself, wander like meth addicts looking for a fix. (I've seen people charging devices outside of buildings, attached to utility outlets.) A deli on 41st Street and Park had power strips set up, in the hopes that we would buy some snacks while we waited for a charge. Well played.
Now I am at Bar & Books, where I snagged a table before the joint became packed. I will be leaving soon, full of Pimm's Cups and electricity. I still need a shower. Help?
