If only I had a kitchen with counters.

I'd like to take this opportunity to let a skeleton out: I have an addiction. I have to do it a few times a week, and doing it that frequently has caused me to build up a tolerance. The worst part? I have no desire to quit, no 12-step programs I'm entering or diaries I'm setting up to monitor myself.

I'm addicted to walking. I'm addicted to walking distances no sane person walks voluntarily, especially not in the middle of what could go down as the hottest month in New York City in recorded history. Walking home from friends' apartments 40 blocks away has turned into me walking home from yoga on a regular basis. For anyone who's counting, that's 88 blocks, or just shy of 4.5 miles. But though I sometimes give myself blisters or even draw a little blood, you won't find me powerwalking; in fact, I have been known to pop into stores here and there whenever something catches my eye.

The other day, I found myself in Fish's Eddy, a kitchenware/restaurant supply store in Union Square. I simply perused (probably unconsciously avoiding beginning my trek) and left emptyhanded, but for the rest of the week I couldn't get this beauty out of my mind:

Entirely unnecessary, maybe, but let me tell you - glasses of chilled water have never poured so beautifully or deliciously as they did after tonight's crazy yoga class.

When I went back in to satisfy my week-long longing, I also carried this mug around the store the whole time, but left without it; I may have to go back for it (on sale, so really I'm practically making money) and also I probably need the bowl, for the big salads that are the only things I want to eat during this hottest-month-ever. (Or, if my roommate gets his hands on it, "cereal bowl". For reference, it's 56oz. We don't play around.)

Keep me away! Or, just visit yourself and pick me something up while you're at it. Don't even get me started on the coasters...