I'm sweating out of pores I didn't know I had. Why, you ask? Because I'm in New York. In August. This, I realize, was not one of the most intelligent ideas I've had lately.

I've seen things in the last few days, though, that have bolstered my spirits. Yesterday I was riding the subway with a friend. We sat down in two of the seats of a three seat section. A few stops later, we looked down, and saw that on the floor in front of the third seat was a bloody mass. At first, I thought that it might be a fetus, but then ascertained that it was a roll of gauze, possibly from a dental surgery of some kind. A bloodied face mask was also on the ground. We got up quickly and moved seats, but a moment later, a man sat down in the seat directly in front of the bloody pile.

He looked down and then, with a sandaled foot kicked the bloody lump. He then carefully placed his briefcase on top of it, and nonchalantly began reading a magazine.