I have two words for you: the Whitney.
I have two more words for you: Edward Hopper.
I have a declaration (not for you but for the above-mentioned): I heart you, Ed Hopper.
I have five syllables for you: Good Enough to Eat.
I have an omelet made with Granny Smith apples, Vermont white cheddar cheese and served with two biscuits and strawberry butter: The Gramercy Park served at the above-mentioned five-syllable eatery.
I also have crepes. I mean I had them. Filled with gouda. And tomatoes. Yum. And a blue star-shaped lollipop and coffee.
I have three people I love: my brothers and my mother.
I have nineteen sylabbles: a dingy, hole-in-the-wall, meat heavy Pakistani restaurant THEY love.
I also have this: relationship advice. Lots of it. Ladled out between mom and siblings like the chicken korma (and other varieties of meat-heavy salaans) I'm not eating.
Instead I have this: a tall iced coffee. Perfection. Another.
I also have this: the giggles. Lots. And ginger candy. Lots. Lots.
I heart the weekend.
Is it really the start of another work week?
I have to sleep.
And read. And write.
Clearly, I'm tired.
But all of you are cool.