2004-01-12 - 12:12 a.m.
When I first started telling people of my decision to move, I heard one statement more than any other response. They�d congratulate me, tell me how excited I must be, and then look around, make sure no one was watching, lean in, and say something to the effect of �you know, I�m secretly jealous that you have the guts to do something like that! I could never!�
I now know why.
I�ve been here one week. And truly, I LOVE New York City. It�s amazing. And it IS exciting, and fun, and all of the things that made it where I wanted to move. But no one ever stops to think about the comfort you�re leaving behind.
New job, new city, new surroundings, new neighbors, new grocery store, new channel line-up on my cable. The human brain is amazing: its capacity for stuff. I mean, I know every lyric to every Beatles song ever, and can quote the entire 10 seasons of Friends in its entirety. How come I�ve walked into this kitchen about a hundred times in the last week, and still can�t get the location of the light switch to my hand? Why can I not grasp how to turn the radiator on? That this refrigerator stays open now, in fact, hits the wall instead of slamming itself shut like my old one? That I no longer have a garbage disposal? That every single time I walk outside, even to get the mail, I have to put on a scarf and hat and gloves and coat, and even then, I�m still going to be cold? That the N/R/W stops at 49th and the 1/2/3 stops at 50th?
I�m exhausted. I�m exhausted! And among all this superficial turmoil, what I think about most is what I left behind. Central heat, movies that were less than $8, and friends who care about my day.
Yesterday I stayed home alone all day. I watched, literally, about 7 romantic comedies, which by the way, is a really stupid idea for a lonely person. The Bachelor, with Renee. The Wedding Planner, with J-Lo. Fools Rush In, with Salma. And on and on and on. I ate Ben & Jerry�s from the tub and cried myself to sleep.
Today, I went out for a $6 tube of toothpaste and a $10-movie at a theater the size of my living room. A young girl (who looked almost as lonely as I felt) stopped me and asked me if I knew how to get to the nearest PATH train. I thought for a moment, then instructed her to take the L- to 14th and the A/C/E to the World Train Center. She was so thankful for my help, and as she scampered away, looking nervous, I thought to myself, �girl, you�re going to make it after all.�
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