I walked home from Madison Square Park last Thursday. I thought it was going to be a much shorter walk, yet somehow I got lost around Chinatown and ended up at the foot of Manhattan Bridge rather than Williamsburg.

Relieved I had come across the bridge that was going to take me back to Brooklyn, I put one foot in front of the other and magically hoped I would end up on the other side in a matter of seconds.

It turned out I had to walk every freaking step across that bridge to make it to Williamsburg despairing at the thought that I still had 15, 10, 5, 1, 0 minutes to go until I got home.

I love walking through the city, yet this Thursday I got particularly frustrated at my small steps and the fact that they could not get me home faster.