New York is a fun place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there. Spending a long weekend in the hustle & bustle of Manhattan leaves me exhilarated and exhausted all at the same time. No matter how often I go, I can never quite get over the pace, throngs of people, constant assault of sounds and smells. There is a frenetic rhythm to the city. A hum. I'm drawn into it like a moth to an incandescent light bulb, but my introverted nature screams for quiet. The idyllic setting of Central Park exists in the in-between. On its outer edges, the city spins and spits. Inside the insulated protection of the park, calm takes over. People seem softer, happier, lighter. Outside the Park is all business and motion. Inside, it melts away under an insulated cocoon of flora and fauna. The trees keep the madness at bay.
Fall is the absolutely best time to see the Park. It might arguably be the best time to visit NYC. Great walking around town weather. SOHO shopping, West Village stroll. Fine dining, the perfect bagel to start the day, a lusciously long pour of Prosecco to cap off the night. Subway rides. Scouring Canal Street for the best deals. Cocktails made the old-fashioned way. Trying to hail the Cash Cab and win big. Chelsea Market. Walking the Highline. Soaking in the ambiance and history. Gramercy Park desserts. The Natural History Museum. Coffee shops. And, of course, Central Park in Fall. 
I admit to having a small problem . . . a slight obsessive, compulsive disorder whereby I startle at odd moments gripped by the fear that I have left a hot iron plugged in at home or the front door unlocked or accidentally forgot to put on my antiperspirant after showering. I've had these strange attacks at random. Once I had nearly completed the 25 minute drive to work when I was overcome by the sense that I had not closed the garage door upon exiting. I debated for a couple of minutes on whether or not to go back home. Finally, faced with the knowing assurance that I would wrestle with hopeless uncertainty all day, I drove back home only to find the garage sealed off tighter than drum.
What is this all about? Why do I have these compulsions? Is it normal? Am I normal?
An off shoot of the issue describe above is my frightening habit of occasionally "zoning out" when driving. Entranced in some daydream, pondering a nebulous situation at work or simply drifting into the lyrics of a song playing on the radio, I sink into my own head and drive completely on auto pilot. Now, mind you, I am awake. My eyes are open. I am functioning at the wheel. But, I go so far into my own thoughts that one quick alteration in my visual field or a sound can snap me back into a jarred state. In that split second, my fight or flight response system kicks in and over-rides my conscious, rationale, logical mind. In this momentary panic, I've been known to jump medians and perform u-turns thinking that I was inadvertently driving the wrong way on a freeway off-ramp. Seriously. I've done this. And, it scared me so bad I nearly crapped my pants.
Again, I ask, is this totally and utterly insane? Have others out there experienced this strange phenomenon of being totally awake and performing tasks but, somehow, not being fully present. Is it lack of sleep? Stress? Old age? Am I in the early stages of dementia?
OK, so just to set everyone's mind at ease for fear that I may be a danger to you and your loved ones on the road. I'm 99% fine. I've only experienced this strange moments a couple of times and I've been able to control my little urges to change 3 lanes of traffic, jump police squad cars and run red lights. It's not quite as disastrous as you might believe it to be. But, it does make me wonder what causes this behavior. My husband says I'm "in my head" too much and I need to focus. But, I like my head. My head is a happy and productive place to be. Well, most of the time it is.
And I bet when you started reading this post you thought I was going to blog about my dog again. Ozy is my OTHER obsessive, compulsive habit.
