I love waking up in New York City. Even as I burrow deeper into the warm covers of my bed, I can feel the energy of the City calling to me.
It’s only 8AM on a Saturday, but I can hear the woosh of the cabs as they race down Eighth Avenue. I can hear the clanging of the street carts filled with New York hot dogs and salty, doughy pretzels as the vendors make their way to their spots around Port Authority. And every few minutes, I can hear a quick burst of a far away siren as a policeman races to a crime scene at the end of a long night shift.
The City is loud. The City is brash. The City is alive.
I pull up the blinds and let the City wash over me. The early morning light cloaks it with a pastel glow. Everything looks cleaner, brighter, newer. The colors match my mood on this morning as we begin our three-day weekend in New York. So much to do, so much to see… There are cupcakes to be eaten, buildings to be gawked at, people to be watched, subways to be ridden, shopping to be done.
I can’t wait to take a bite of the Big Apple. And neither can he.