We’ve successfully arrived in New York, where I will be eating pizza at every conceivable opportunity for the next few days. The train ride was extremely low-stress compared to the last time we drove down here, i.e., the blown tire. It’s generally my favorite method of travel anyway. You just sit down and someone else is responsible for getting you to where you’re going. All you have to do is entertain yourself, eat if the trip is long enough, and not make a mess all over the bathroom. Some people are better at that than others. The train has a lot going for it as transportation, though. You can stop for food without having to stop. There’s no traffic. It doesn’t leave the ground. Not all of the above can be said about the subway, which we had to hop on after we got to Penn Station, but you can’t have everything, I guess.
Mostly, I’m just happy that we have no more packing to do. If I see another plastic bin before we come back from Thailand, I can’t be held responsible for what happens to it. Most of our entire collected life is currently hanging out in the basement of my mother-in-law’s house, which is kind of an odd thought, that nearly everything we still own can be put away in one room. But we did sort of go through all our possessions with a chainsaw. Figuratively, not literally. Otherwise, packing would have been a lot more enjoyable.
And don’t worry, Rochester people. The weather down here is crap right now too.