Incensed.

I used to really like the smell of incense, but there's this street vendor who's set up on Sixth (on my homeward route) who sells the stuff. This would be okay, except that he usually has an ENORMOUS bundle of sticks burning at all times, with this huge cloud of overpoweringly strong smoke you can smell from across the street. Plus he leaves the leftover sticks all over the sidewalk, there's ash everywhere, etc. Bleh.

Picking up stuff from Asylum truck RSN. I hope it won't be a tsuris. Driving in sure was...or, well, driving in wasn't much worse than I was expecting (though that's bad enough); _parking_ is the real evil. Though I anticipate much not-fun with the Friday night traffic. Still, there's a certain pleasure in the strategy game of trying to pick your route: Let's see, the Manhattan bridge is under construction, so avoid that...do I take the Williamsburg and cut across to the Lincoln, or go up the BQE and take the Triborough? Nah, the Cross-Bronx is always the wrong choice; but what about bypassing it and taking the Deegan up to the Cross-Westchester to the Tappan Zee? Etc. (I suspect Williamsburg is the right move, but we'll see. That's the other part: it's all dynamic.)

Mmmm. Shore tomorrow. Pack swimsuit, towel, booze, air mattress, Beth's needlepoint. Also Settlers of Sheep. I wanted to get some of the artisanal cheese from the cheese people at the Greenmarket, but of course they were therefore not around today.

I want chocolate.

Hmph

Certain parties mis-read the email about the truck. Load-out didn't start til 6. (Well, 6:20 actually, but it was scheduled for 6.) It went pretty swiftly from that point, though of course our stuff was all the way at the back.

Got stuff together, dropped off certain party & stuff, and would have headed home...but pooky wanted me to pick him up from work. Because his laptop was too heavy and he didn't want to take the train. Four hours later I am finally done being pissed off about having to go out of my way through rotten traffic for this.

My dinner was a lump of greasy Muenster and some saltines from the bodega down the block from the truck load-out. Yay.

Shoulder's killing me, but only when I turn my neck. Also yay.

On the way home, I determined that the chocolate I crave is, specifically, a chocolate Zinger.