As of today I decided to fully commit to being in New York City. I have been here for almost three years now, but I never felt like I fully moved in. (I must stop ending sentences in prepositions) In the last week or so I have put two pieces of art on the wall (one is a picture of the lower Manhattan skyline from the Brooklyn perspective), I cleaned out an area of the apartment that had once just been all of my garbage (think pictures, CD cases, tax forms, stray bags, etc) and put a desk and chair there. I feel like for the first time in years I’m living in a home. My home. A place where I’m comfortable. A place I want to be.
Things are far from perfect in my life. I have a bunch of things I am dealing with BUT I think that creating an atmosphere in my apartment that I am comfortable and happy with is a start. I feel like I made a commitment to something.
There are a lot of things happening for me that I’m pretty excited about. There are some things I’m confused about. But what I can say is that if I look back from where I was one year ago I’m in a better place. Both literally and figuratively.
I found a passion in writing.
I am a healthier (though I have been home from work the past couple of days with what I could only describe as “Whooping cough”
I feel like I have a plan.
I am 100% single. Which is not necessarily the worst thing in the world.
I could elaborate on each of those at length, but it would be boring for me to do so and boring for you to read. What I will do is say that I realized the things that would make me happy and I started working toward them. I set goals. I began wanting to change for me and not anyone else. Not my friends, not my family, not for a girl. I let myself get into a rut, but I didn’t let myself stay there. I wanted better for myself.
Maybe that is being selfish, but I’m working on me. I’m working on being the best I can at the things I truly care about.
A quick story:
I have been inside for the better part of this week cause my lungs feel like they are filled with fluid. Today I woke up and checked my work email. Gave my boss a call to make sure everything was proceeding in a smooth fashion. It wasn’t necessarily, but then again, are things ever smooth at work? After eating my breakfast, drinking my coffee and writing a short story I went to get a prescription filled (for the good old lungs). On my way home I stopped at an art/printing shop where I looked for a photo of Manhattan. I had been wanting to hang one on my wall for some time, but never found “the right one”.
I looked around for a while and saw the picture I wanted. The sales guy came up to me and said, “I have a good price for you on this.” You know what, the first price he gave me was fair. It was much less than I expected to pay. I didn’t haggle or negotiate. He added that he would clean the frame and glass for me. He even included the mount to hang it on the wall.
The point of this isnt’ that I got a picture. It is that I wanted something, I took action, and the rest fell into place. I am happier having that picture on my wall. My apartment is a little homier because of it. I have a good friend who has always said, “You make your own luck.” He is correct. It is about time I started making my own luck. Started making decisions that get me where I want to go, not take me back to places I have already been.
I left that store with Manhattan under my arm. Beautiful, wonderful (at times too noisy, smelly, hot, cold, rude, fast, slow, crowded, lonely) Manhattan. I could not be happier.