…surely must be Commuting in the Elements. It starts out harmlessly enough, with a peek out the window and the realization that it is pouring/ sleeting/ blizzarding like mad outside. Okay, you think to yourself. No biggie. I’ll just dress cozily and call a car service so I don’t even have to deal. Fast forward twenty frantic busy signals later, after you’ve conceded that everyone else in New York had the same idea and there absolutely no cars to be had, you realize you now have five minutes to get to work before you are Officially Late. Still the optimism ensues: Fine. I’ll just put on wellies and a raincoat and grab a cab. You never know, I might get lucky. Fifteen stressful no-cab minutes later, your body slick with sweat on the inside and rain on the outside, you finally get in line with the other chumps at the bus stop before boarding a positively tropical bus and standing cheek-to-cheek with thirty million other packed-in passengers. The windows are foggy and the floor is damp and everyone is soaked and people’s wet umbrellas are pressed against your leg and the heat is, of course, blasting. Everyone contemplates killing each other, or themselves. Then, finally, it is over and you emerge onto the rainy street, sprint to work, sweating and getting rained on the entire way, and burst into the office to a tableful of people in a meeting who stop talking and stare in silence at the stringy-haired beast who finally decided to show up.