Got off the JetBlue jet plane at 7:30 AM. Driving through Queens is a throwback to all of those gritty films shot in the NYC of the ’70’s. Queens was untouched by the 80’s Disneyfication of Manhattan. Queens still flaunts the rust and rawness that you’d expect to see from the window of a beat-up yellow cab at 45 miles per hour. Some say Queens is the island of misfit toys. I say it’s “backstage”. Whatever you call it, it’s definitely a crumbling Metropolis unto itself. When we got back to our Queens apartment I unpacked and Caryn did too. Then she went to work. I should have too but I couldn’t get it together. I felt the lag. But it wasn’t jet lag. It was depression plain and simple. I get depressed when I travel, don’t ask me why. Maybe it’s the recycled airplane air. Maybe it’s the guy coughing behind you for five hours. Maybe it’s the interrupted sleep of a cross country overnight flight with a weird pillow wrapped around your neck. So I fell asleep on the couch. It was a deep sleep. I woke and thought it was tomorrow but it was still today. I was alone. Feeling worse. So I canceled my plans for the evening and went shopping for groceries. On the walk home I got caught in the rain. It was big rain. A heavy rain. A don’t-feel-sorry-for-yourself rain. Soaking wet I got home and made a kale salad. Caryn got home from work and we ate the salad and it was good. She went back to work. Alone again I remembered I have new headphones from Barry. So I put them on and then I put on the loud music that has someone singing about how New York is the greatest city in the world. I smiled. So I took a picture.