It’s been quite a week: I began physical therapy; I covered a General Assembly meeting of Occupy Brooklyn; I wrapped up a six-month long writing project; I said goodbye to a houseguest of six weeks (who moved to Zuccotti Park), capping off seven months of the past twelve hosting people; I chatted with recently laid off friends; I baked a shitload of pumpkin bread.

But far and away, the highlight of the week was not burning to death on the 4 train under the East River. I’m not sure what it says about me that I wrote through this harrowing experience and immediately posted it at the Voice,
but I’m proud of it. It helped me to keep my focus.