Just like you guys I have a sort of routine. My routine mostly functions on Sundays however, where I always do the same stuff: talk to my mom on the phone, take a walk down Upper West Side to end at Chelsea where I get myself a seat at Cafe Grumpy to drink mocha and read. Yes. This is the perfect Sunday for me. It's pretty simple. Not much goes on. But it's such a peaceful parallel to the other days of the week, and the best way of relaxing. What's even better is that cafe Grumpy makes the best coffee drinks on Manhattan. I've tried a lot of places, but there's nothing like this place. Granted, it takes you a little longer to get your coffee, but that's such a small price to pay.
This Sunday I finished The Man Who Loved Children by Christina Stead as I sat inside Grumpy. It is such an exhaustingly beautiful and horrifying book that I dare all lit lovers out there to read it. It's been criminally overlooked since it's publishing in 1938, and deserves all the recognition it can possibly get. This is a masterpiece. Nothing less.
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