Photo by myself outside Grace Church, on Broadway and 11th Street.
You wouldn't think this is a photo from Manhattan, but it is. This little neo-Gothic church just below Union Square is gated off from the busy street.
As for most New Yorkers, work is instantly nuts for me - a client meeting is scheduled for Wednesday. My first day back was a twelve-hour day. Tomorrow promises to be the same.
Unfortunately, I took a cab home with a madman driving. It was one of those cabs where the back seat was set low, so only the tippy top of one's head peeks out the window. My eyes could not find a horizon to focus on. By the time we reached the Brooklyn Bridge, my head was swimming.
I got home to Mark and Rupert (our dog) and Dida (our cat) conked out on the sofa, one on top of the other in a heap.
It was a welcome end to the evening. There is nothing like coming home your dear ones blissfully asleep, unaware of dodgy cab rides, deadlines and the trivial world outside.
Related posts: Grace Church in Black and White, No Place is Perfect and On Eating Chicken Sandwiches in Montreal.