The thermostat, not that I have one, but that metaphorical one that weathermen (and women!) refer to - that thermostat was in the sixties today as spring teased us, letting us know that it is not too far away and I saw quite a few people in flip flops today, one in shorts, and lots of people in hoodies or t-shirts.

And I could feel in those streets, on Varick Street especially, that thing that makes me love this city. This city is my favorite when it is warm because there is some energy that takes hold of these streets. I don't know how to describe it. It whispers of sex, though. And on the street today, the sight of people just in t-shirts turned me on. It has been too long since I have seen males display skin so wantonly, so publicly. It's amazing how after winter, these clothing choices seem sexy, they turn me on so much, and by the end of summer, they will have become routine, desexualized and mean nothing, and this is why I love these first few warm weeks when the sight of exposed feet seem tantamount to someone having their dick hanging out of their jeans, that it is this skin I haven't seen in public for months. Oh, it made me so happy and made me feel so much better that I had been this morning.

That is, of course, until I got settled into work and tried to keep myself awake and entertained, but failed miserably, and I am working again at eight tomorrow, which means I should really try to get to bed soon since I can't even nap when I get home from work because I have to wait for Myrna to come fix our toilet then. I can't even dilly dally in parks after work and take in this nice weather and feel good because I have to come back to this apartment and wait for a little old lady to try to fix our toilet. I am pretty certain I am going to galleries after she fixes it and getting totally hammered if I am still awake. That sounds like a brilliant plan.