Our plans on Sat were leave our apt at 4, go to Paragon Sports to look at backpacks, go to my show at 5:30, and then I was going to hang out at the Strand while C went to the gym. (I knew I wouldn't survive the gym.) And then we were going to go home and cook dinner.
After lazing around the apt (I woke up with morning sickness Sat and then threw up), so I was cranky anyway, eating apples and laying on the sofa propped up by pillows, we got out the door and to Manhattan. By the time we left Paragon I was light headed, and C had to feed me the protein bar he had brought for him to eat at the gym. He said I looked like I might collapse, and I thought I might. I finally decided that I absolutely needed ice cream, and ONLY ice cream, but we couldn't find ice cream between Union Sq and E 9th St (We clearly went the wrong way) and I had to have a rice dream sandwich instead. which sort of sucked but still perked me up.
After the play I was fine for about 20 min; as soon as I got to the Strand I realized that I wasn't going to survive an hour happily, and mostly spent that hour drinking water at the water fountain and deciding what I was going to order once we went to the Vietnamese restaurant I had decided we were going to eat at as soon as C was done at the gym. I couldn't understand why there weren't sofas at the Strand, and it was all just so confusing and crazy. By the time C found me I was leaning wearily on a phone booth outside the Strand, wondering where he was and desperate for the Vietnamese food. And then of course I ordered the wrong thing and was upset about that, but whatever.
I think they key is to just eat A LOT. I need to prepare more for situations like this.