It’s been so hot and muggy here for the past week. I was sitting at the dog run (where else?) with my friend lulu the other day and she was telling me what a hard time she’d had getting motivated that morning. She said she "felt like a slug on heroin." That struck me as a damn vivid analogy.

A few days later I was walking to work… well, sprinting really. The trip to work is actually my second sprint of the day. The first is the trip to the run. Snickers can’t take it slow in the AM; he can’t wait to get there and see his friends (god forbid he’s the first dog there though, he is so disappointed). I keep telling him he’s supposed to run IN the dog run, not on the way TO the dog run! Anyway… my point (yeah, I had one) was that I was rushing to work, weaving through crowds of people rushing in all different directions, and I was thinking about what lulu said. A slug on heroin. Hmmmm. Would a person in any other part of the country (let’s not even mention Europe in this discussion), compare themselves to a drugged mollusk if they weren’t running dead ahead at 90 miles an hour 18 hours a day? I DOUBT IT! What is it about NYC that makes us feel like we have to utilize every minute to the fullest? Is it just because there is so much available to do, that we feel guilty if we don’t experience as much as possible? (Yes, I’m speaking from personal experience on that theory.) I swear I didn’t figure out how to chill until I got the dog. I’m sure that’s part of why I’m so nuts about him. He taught me to chill!