The Space Between XVI

It only took about twenty minutes to get from Christopher Street to Hoboken which seemed pretty quick.  I rolled my luggage out and looked around for an elevator or escalator...no such luck.  I looked up the flights of stairs and tried to count like that would give me the motivation to lug my clothes all the way up.  The worst part was when I finally thought I reached the top it was just a landing and another set of stairs, but I could see the buildings so I took a deep breath and kept going. I really need to learn to pack lighter or find a better way to get from point A to point B.

I could see Clarence waving at me from in front of the Starbucks and it looked miles away with arms that felt like jelly...how the hell am I ever going to run that marathon?  He lifted my luggage like it was nothing then looked at me and rolled his eyes,"how many pairs of shoes?"  I told him four...I have nine plus the pair I'm wearing.  Either I need more clothes or I need to stop packing my closet.

I always thought of Jersey as the ugly step sister to NYC but Hoboken is actually quite nice and beautiful with a spectacular view.  It was nice to see Clarence again, he makes me laugh and always has a calm and cool demeanour...unless he's driving in which case he is a foul mouthed Italian hanging out his window flipping off other drivers...well that was interesting.  I watched him carry my suitcase up his fifteen stairs and he is clearly a fireman, although I could hear him sigh when he was finally able to place it down.  I was utterly exhausted by the time I washed my face and got settled...530am training resumes for the marathon...blah