Any visitors to my apartment last night would have witnessed me in a flurry of activity. I felt almost like a Maenad, frenzying, out for blood, where the vital fluids I sought were contained within the heaps of detritus that formerly filled my bedroom. A six-hour cleaning extravaganza. I bounced around (corybantically, perhaps?) listening to my particular brand of Bubblegum Europop, letting Aqua and Toybox and Eiffel 65 spur me ever onward. The worst of it is that my room is still not clean. It is not even particularly tidy. I take solace in the fact that the floor is now visible, and everything has been sorted into discrete categories. I have a book pile, a blanket pile, a paperwork pile, a hat pile. (As for the last, I do not know why I still own that many hats. I never, ever wear them -- but they were obtained on vacations and such, and have rather pleasant associations as a result. It all goes back to me and that inanimate objects problem.)
I have spent my morning alternately making small tweaks to this blasted website I am being paid for, and sneaking peeks at restaurant guides on line. The official plan at present is to wander around the city tonight and just find somewhere that looks good for dinner, and while I think that is a good plan, I would like to have a few offhand suggestions available so I do not appear quite as clueless about Manhattan as I actually am. My official discovery of the morning is that the much-lauded Zagat Guide is completely, utterly worthless. When I read a review, be it of a movie, a restaurant, or anything else, I would like a few specifics. Zagat's references are but a sentence or two long, and while they helpfully inform me that a restaurant is "quirky" and "offbeat," with "lots of charm," they completely neglect to explain (for example) what sort of vegetarian options are available, or even what is available, period.
In a review, or in a menu for that matter, I look for key phrases. "Avocado," "braised," "creamy," "brie," "pan-seared," "wild mushroom," or "pecan-crusted" rate high on my list. I like imagining what food tastes like based on its description (which explains why I spend so much of my life watching the Food Network). I have decadent tastes; I shall go spend my afternoon looking up reviews that cater to them.
PS: T minus 7.25 hours and counting.