There was a man sleeping on the landing when I got home this morning. He didn't look homeless nor did he look particularly clean but he didn't smell bad which is the real indicator. He was asleep on the fourth floor with his jacket under his head, sprawled out so that I had to walk around his feet while walking up the landing. I admired his gusto; if he had snuck into the building he was certainly not being shy about it. When I came back from yoga, he was gone.
I took Megan out to a very belated birthday dinner. We chose Shalom Japan, a restaurant here in Williamsburg that mixes Jewish and Japanese cuisine, in honor of the first night of Hanukkah. The food was good, we both ordered the lox bowl and I even nibbled on some home made challah with raisin butter. We had okonomi latkes to start and mochi ice cream to finish. But being the trendy spot that it is, they were mostly full except for the "covered" out door seating area. But a covered outdoor seating area with no heat lamps is akin to a coverless outdoor seating area. We ate the whole meal with all of our layers on. An older Jewish couple got up and left after they got their menus, presumably because it was so chilly (I thought that was very Jewish of them.) On the way there we could see into the homes of several Orthodox families, men and little boys standing around menorahs, chandeliers behind them.
Apparently now that I'm getting paid again, I can't spend my money fast enough.