It's 12:06. My mom's plane lands in exactly six hours and three minutes. We have big plans: a tour of the Lower East Side through the 92nd Street Y, a trip to see Avenue Q, a little Chinese New Year celebration in Chinatown, dinner with friends, a night in Brooklyn seeing a man who is supposedly the greatest living improvisor on the trumpet. And that's just the first few days. I'm so excited to see her!
It's 12:08. Okay, I have to stop looking at the clock.
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