You know that moment when you gain that epiphany-induced clarity, and your entire future seems to be neatly delineated before you? Well, I certainly have not experienced that in the days since returning from the land that gave us Cadbury World. In fact, the only place in the world where my life has taken such a definite shape is Israel. But, being 6000 miles away and all, I fear I must reserve that sensation for a future travel.
Anyhow, the “it” is a reference to Peanut Butter and Co., a restaurant dedicated to glorifying the wonders of peanut butter, in all its healthy fat glory. I happened upon this little gem one summer, while perusing the streets of the West Village with my friend, a recent member of the vegan club. Needless to say, the traditional New York Deli was not within her realm of acceptable edible establishments. We opted instead for the aforementioned peanut butter heaven, where we sampled a variety of flavors from Smooth Operator to the Bee’s Knees. And we received an unlimited supply of fruits and veggies to dip into these delectable options. Yes, I quickly went into food coma, and vowed that someway, somehow, I would earn the money to rent out the apartment above the restaurant. I was sure that the only thing missing from my life– aside for a cat named Booboo– was an apartment the size of a walk-in closet above a restaurant that catered to those who preferred nuts to normalcy.
Conveniently, within one week of returning to the United States, said apartment has gone on the market!
The window above the "B" could be mine.
Consequently, instead of wasting my days dreaming of an academic year abroad gone by, I have been focusing my efforts on earning the necessary funds to secure said apartment before some other spinster in the making claims it for herself. Hence, my motivation to meander up to Boston, work for my professor, and take a crack at turning my pipe dream into a semi-respectable form of reality. And though my week of fundraising draws to a close tomorrow morning, I have already planned a walk through for this weekend; but only after I treat my lovely Wellesley ladies to the restaurant that restored my faith in the fast food industry.
