On my way to work this morning, I saw a woman with tattoos on her feet. She had a tattoo of a man in a panama hat one one foot and something I can't remember on the other. What kind of people have their feet tattooed??? I kept thinking that must have hurt like hell.
On the way home from work, this woman proceeded to talk loudly to herself from Manhattan to Brooklyn. She wasn't a your typical self-talker though. She didn't look homeless and she wasn't old. She looked like she was in her late 20s or early 30s and well-dressed. But she was nuts. Talking and cursing about how she'd been wronged by someone. People, wisely, ignoring her ranting but I wanted to clap when she got off the train at Jay Street.
It's been a long week.
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