It’s one of those New York winter days where the Christmas decorations have all been taken down but spring still feels so distant you might have imagined the holiday. It’s bleak, gray and bone-chillingly cold. My partner is studying abroad the semester, so I am heading home to an empty apartment. It’s the end of a long week at work, and a commute that feels even longer. Each of the three trains I have to take has had some sort of delay. I just want to get home…