After telling myself for the last hour that I would not forget my sandwich, I am standing on the red line platform and my sandwich is up one escalator and down another, inside a brown cube fridge, in the back “intern office” where I sit even though I’m not an intern. The interns rotate in and out. I like them. Today, down the hall, Ian yelled “what the fuck!”at the copier. I laughed and Sister Marie, who is a nun and was sitting next to me, said “Ian, bad!” But she laughed, too. I like a nun who can laugh at a decent f-bomb.

I hope this train doesn’t do the thing where it slows and slows and gets sluggish and leaves me no time to buy a piece of pizza to feed my tired brain.