Settle down, you.

I'm not doing so well at this readjustment thing so far, but I've been reminded that it's only been a few days. And that New York is weird.

The latter reminiscence came from a "taxi" driver. I purchased a very heavy - though not as heavy as the one i wanted - do-it-yourself chest of drawers. The box said my purchase required 3 or 4 people to lift it, so I, of course, figured I could carry it home on my own. I lugged it through the store. The Target employee at the door, however, suggested strongly that I take a taxi, and he called out to someone just outside. The "taxi" turned out to be some guy's SUV. A homeless man tried to help me to the car, which prompted the driver to carry on at great length for the ride home about how he hates "crackheads" and how they scare off his customers and can steal anything, even things that are bolted down - "that's that crackhead strength," he says - and how King of New York was the greatest movie ever and they don't make movies like that anymore. He also has a theory about how crackheads run carwashes and use hot wax as a scam. It took a lot not to laugh, even though the whole thing was completely ridiculous.

It also took me something like three hours to put the stupid chest of drawers together, but whatever, it's done and looks nice.

Back to feeling weird. I was thinking a lot about it this morning on the subway, when suddenly a man in a stained t-shirt and sweatpants, badly for want of a wash and shave, stumbled onto the subway. "I'm in the big time now, hoo, boy, I am in the big time now," he said. Then he sat down and started to sing "ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall" just loudly enough to irritate everyone. So I guess, technically speaking, I could be doing worse.