Sarah woke me up in the usual way -- by locating my armpit and burying her face in it until my shoulder ached from the elevation. Were this method to fail, she'd resort to sitting on me, but thankfully I had a good reason not to resist this morning.
Next: two mugs of Sarah's pour-over in Park Slope, followed by a crowded train barreling into the UES. Overcast skies warranted light blazers, nothing more. Omelettes, sausage links, and fresh OJ from Nectar's completed the morning fuel-up, and into the Met we went.
Sarah shows off her new boots in the Sackler Wing's bright space.