Bad greasy eggs

Note: This is a private post to me. So if it doesn't make any sense, sorry...you're not me.
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It all smells like bad greasy eggs. The requests, the ideas, the same old same old. Where did I first remember the smell of those eggs? In rural Jamaica, I think.

In a backwater country neighborhood where there was no hot water and the cleaning girl, whose jamaican english I couldn't understand scrubbed the sand out of my hair while I sat in a metal pot.

I longed for somewhere else...but home in New York wasn't that much better. Queens had it's own bad eggs slathered in grease. Who am I fooling? Bad greasy eggs...it's the smell of poverty.

What to do with this? Pay attention, yes. Decisions? That's another story...