Hmmm. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?
But here I am, finally, in New York. At least for now. For the first week, I spent all my days in a giddy-happy delirium. I'm not sure you would know the kind I mean, as I had certainly never experienced anything quite like it before, but there I was, constantly grinning. Get in the elevator. Grin. Buy groceries. Grin. Wait for the little red hand to turn into a little white man so you can cross the street. Grin. I grinned in the sun, I grinned in the rain, I grinned when it got so windy that tornadoes hit Brooklyn. Honestly, if I hadn't been so damn happy I would have found myself insufferable.
Fortunately for all, except maybe me, the giddy-happy had to pass. I suppose it was too good to be true. Reality had to hit me eventually. So now, while reasonably pleased with the part of my situation that involves being in New York, I am also stressed. Stressed that I will have to leave New York because no one will have me. Stressed that I am not entirely sure which of my Plans A or B would actually be better for me in the long run (more on the various Plans in future posts, I promise). Stressed that I am running out of money. Stressed that I have some kind of brain-eating fungus that has resulted in me leaving the house once without my wallet and once without my keys in the same week.
And because stress is always accompanied by pints of ice cream and the inability to say no to hamburgers, it has also come with a side of extra weight and the consequent additional stress of not being able to fit into my clothes.
That being said, well, stress schmess, I say. I'm in New York! In the past three days, I have seen stand-up comedy, Molly Ringwald and Siri Hustvedt. Tonight, I'm going to the theatre to experience Ibsen on Broadway. Tomorrow, I have yoga class. Some of my closest friends in the world are but a subway ride away. The sun is shining over the West Village outside my window.
Oh, here we go. Giddy happy is making a comeback!
