money is just something you throw off the back of a train

I road into the city today to get a new NYC license. I have to say Monday morning at the DMV is pretty much like you'd expect. The lines where long but moving OK, people behind desks seemed tired and maybe a little daunted about facing the week but went through the repetitious work repetitiously.

I hadn't eaten breakfast and upon leaving the building got down on the banana and nuts at the bottom of my backpack and promptly started to think about what else I could get to eat for $2.30 which is what I had to spend for the day. I'm not sure at what point over the summer I spent all of my money i just know it's gone.

The $2+ in my pocket got me thinking about food access. I spent most of my weekend working with a woman who takes farm fresh produce and a bit of meat, cooks it, and delivers it to people for hundreds of dollars. The food we got to work with was delicious. The broccoli a beautiful grassy green, the cherry tomatoes like little drops of sun, the wheat in our scones freshly milled, and the cream in our polenta organic. It wasn't too hard to make things taste good. It felt good to share this bounty with someone. I felt good about the state of food in Brooklyn and my belly.

Then it was Monday, I was out of the kitchen and needed to feed myself on two bucks. Two bucks doesn't seem like enough money to expect to eat on. I kept wishing I had five because that seemed like enough to at least get a decent snack. Then, I walked past the Chelsea Papaya and saw a sign "hot dogs, all-beef, $1.35," I love hot dogs. It's tough to reconcile but I do. A few moments later one loaded with relish, mustard, and ketchup was mine and I still had a dollar in my pocket.

Moments after finishing the dog I felt a little regret about what I just eaten and the need to find a bit balance. I wandered further east down 23rd walking past signs for dollar menus and slices and meal deals. Somehow all the food options seemed a bit sinister like cartoon smiley faces run amok.

I made it to Union Square and decided to hit up the farmers market for some apples. My dollar bought me two shiny Cortlands and for the moment my head and my mouth where quiet.