As a native New Yorker who cares deeply about the art and science of parking, the promise and pitfalls, the successes (good for tomorrow!) and failures (putting the car in a garage or getting a ticket), I found that yesterday, as seen through the lens of a concerned parker, was strange.
To back up (although not into another car), I had spent the night at Diane and David's after driving on Monday in the pouring rain to have the troublesome area on my lip checked out by yet another dermatologist at Brigham Dermatology Associates, which seems to have become my home away from home. Dr. Anthony said it is probably just viral due to cutting back on the Valtrex, but she did a culture to rule out the presence of squamous cells. I asked her to give a good freeze (cryotherapy) to the bothersome spots on my hands, and she zapped vigorously, requiring a bandaid on two unsightly areas.
I left early enough yesterday to go straight to Northampton to catch part of class at the Literacy Project. When I got to the Gotham Street parking lot, usually full, causing distress and the hunt for parking on the street, I was pleased to see many good spots. I put enough quarters in the machine to last until the end of class at 12:30. But it turns out that I wasn't needed. Many students had either left early or just not come. There were two tutors for five students and there was nothing for me to do.
But I had paid for the spot so I sat in the car and conducted some business, calling Hampshire Orthopedics and Sports Medicine, where Joe had gone due to problems related to being a catcher. I am frustrated with this foot. Every time it feels better and I exert myself it starts to hurt again. That will be next Thursday.
It didn't seem right to be in Northampton and just go home, so I went downtown. I pulled into a parking space a little distance from downtown and took out my quarters for the meter. It wanted a lot of quarters for a short time, so I pulled out and walked to the garage. I walked to the Haymarket to have a blueberry scone and a coffee and then read the paper.
During my wanderings I got a call from Diane at the Kraft Blood Donor Center at Dana-Farber. She said the Draculean procedure, aka ECP, will start Monday at 3 p.m., followed the next day at 7 a.m., and so on and so forth for about three months.
At this count I have about half a dozen stories to research and write for my new gig, working for my old employer, the Republican, and my editor/friend Mimi Rigali. They are for a book on Italian-Americans of Western Massachusetts, part of the Our Stories series. They are not due until July, but still, I have started to make some calls and had better proceed.
But first, after all that driving, I needed some exercise. I went to the Holyoke Y (excellent parking in the usually crowded lot) for spinning but got there late because I was rummaging for my biking shoes, which I figured would give me the best support. It was not quite enough so I did an abbreviated swim.
Today, after Pilates, a short ride on a bike at the Hampshire Y, and then, work.