Little Miss Transient

On Friday morning, I put on my sunglasses, some old flip flops, and a bra and walked down the block for a coffee and a stack of amNYs left over after the morning commute.

I wonder what patrons finishing their breakfasts outside the diner thought when I pulled ten copies of the free tabloid daily out of the box on the corner. “Look at that hobo. Is she going to make a bed out of those newspapers? She’s hurtin’ for a new pair of shoes. Oh, but she’s had a pedicure! And a manicure! And is she drinking a large non-fat iced latte with a shot of cinnamon?”

She was, indeed.

I deserved that latte, too; I had to spend the rest of the day lining boxes with those newspapers and wrapping my more fragile belongings in them.  Packing is hard.  I chipped a nail!