9:00 P.M.Time for a desert. I walk to the Grocery Store on West End and 72nd street, one that I have been using a lot since the pandemic began. I grab a coffee and cream yogurt and go back to the apartment.
What had I ate before? Oh, just the bagel with the American Cheese that I got in the morning. Enough to keep me full until the yogurt trip. I assume that I won't need any more food until tomorrow morning's usual 5:30 coffee, and because I am tired---soon fall asleep.
11:00 P.M. I awake with a start---from a pretty solid sleep. I am starving. I can't believe how hungry I am. Of course, there is nothing solid in the fridge---I could have bought a "just in case" sandwich but I didn' It is either the Grocery store or Fairway---which I usually try to avoid. I get dressed as quick as I can---stomach still demanding some food, and practically run the four blocks to the grocery store, hoping that the sandwich man has no orders a head of me. It turns out he does, but he takes my four pieces of roast beef on rye bread (no toast) very quickly and makes the sandwich. For some reason my approach annoys him---I am a little peeved, but I will not start conflict---just grab the sandwich, pay for it, and even as I walk back to the apartment on West End Avenue start to eat it. And it is very good. Now I am in a good place---I expect no more hunger pains until maybe tomorrow morning.
3:45 A.M. I awake again. Now I am having a sugar fit. Hungry for a sugar snack. Nothing to help me in the fridge---of course I could have bought a "just in case" snack at 11, but I did not. My stomach wants a yogurt or an ice cream or a danish---this minute. But it is close to 4---even the extremely safe West End Avenue four block corridor between the apartment and the grocery store, with all its doormen building is a little daunting and nervous making at 3:55. So I reason with my stomach:
Me: you know we should not be on the street until the sun comes up. You never know who is out there at this time of night-I don't want to be a target.
Stomach: I don't care---I am hungry for some desert.
Me; Come on, let's be reasonable--it is not that long until 5:30.With some patience we can make it.
Stomach: You think so---I doubt it. Take a risk, dude, run down there and get me my yogurt.
I realize now that all arguments simply won't work. The stomach has won the day. I get dressed, leave the house, look around very cautiously, see nobody, hear nothing and proceed. Four blocks later I pick up my yogurt and return. No problem. I am happy, the stomach is sated and happy, and you see, it can be done---one can travel on West End Avenue between 76th Street and 72nd street at around 4 A.M.
That's it for today---Yankee game on in 2 hours---should keep me occupied---will report soon.
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