am I a bad Jew?

Today is Yom Kippur.  The holiest day on the Jewish calendar.  And though I will fast, I will also work.

On Thursday, my manager hands me a rental client who is from another state; she will be here this weekend.  I make myself available.

So instead of going to temple, or breaking fast with my family in Rye, I am traveling up and down the eastside of Manhattan looking at one-bedroom apartments in mostly walk-ups on a very rainy day.

We see 10 apartments.  Seven are either too cramped, too gloomy, or not suited for anyone with more than one coat, one set of linens, one towel, one dress, and no shoes. Three are possibilities, but the first choice is gone by the time I get home and write to the co-broker with a question. 

All this running around keeps my mind off food. I don’t eat until well after sundown. 

I shouldn’t have worked, but I need to.  Given the circumstances, I hope G-d will understand.