Dressing
Woke up half an hour late. Rushed to the Forest Hills T stop, at the southern end of the orange line in Jamaica Plain, en route to downtown Boston where I’d transfer to the red line to get to Davis Square in Somerville and walk the last two blocks to work. I skipped a shower and shave and only dabbed on some cologne. A European shortcut perhaps, but I didn’t mind. Compared to the grumpy faces of professionals in ties, pressed slacks, polished shoes, and hair coiffed ... Read More
