Southern girl standing clear of the closing doors.


My first work week in New York is officially over. It was short, like me, barely upto 5 😉 The city is a tough place for a noob anyway, but more so for a little noob.

Little noobs have shorter strides and need more time to get to the train station. Little noobs find it hard to breathe when submerged in a crowd of fast-paced, no nonsense New Yorkers concealing their natural and MTA odors with designer fragrances. Little noobs find it hard to read “Next Stop” signs on subway trains because the large people inadvertently block them. Little noobs have the same problem with street signs. And this little noob gets turned around quite easily!

It is a world of difference from my calm Florida 15 minute drive to work in air conditioning. Which brings me to my point – everything here is more of a fight than it is in other places. In my first week here, I have not understood why people choose to live this life of constant fighting and struggling. Now, before all you “New Yaawkers” jump to your big city’s defense allow me to say – I have spent a lot of time here and in long stretches, and I’ve seen a lot of things that people who live and work here have not, because they don’t have time, and because I had all the time in the world when I was here earlier.  So I know all the theoretical benefits of this city. They just need to sink in for me, and I need to find my special place among the throngs of people.

All my clothes are currently designed to move from air conditioning, to luxurious 100 degree parking for all of 4 seconds, back to serious air conditioning. I’ve had it good so far! No 45 minute fight commute to work, give or take an additional 30 should I need to stop at a pharmacy, or run just any simple errand.

Oh and the fight for parking is insane. Ordinarily no New Yorker in their sane mind would own a car, but I’m far from sane, and really where we live is not that bad, but twice a week I need to switch out where I am parked, for street cleaning. So invariably we are driving around the neighborhood yelling “Spot”, or abusing hydrants or making miserable desperate attempts at parallel parking in way too tiny spots in the city where square inches are more valuable than the rarest blood type. This little girl from Florida and her big black puppy really miss our vast expanses of parking! (Please don’t offer me sage advice of what all I can do to do away with my car. I have my reasons for keeping it for as long as I need to.)

Speaking of vast expanses – we also miss the vast expanses of green where once upon a time we ran free and breathed clean, fresh air. I have not run since I moved, which by definition means, I am miserable. Because each day is a fight. A fight for just getting through the day – just getting to work and back.

The proper thing to do is allow yourself time and healing. And I will. I hope one day I will truly understand why 8 million odd people choose to live on this small island and the small fragments of land that surround it. In the meanwhile I will have this image of this small island suddenly sinking into the water just by the sheer weight of these 8 million, exhausted and constantly fighting individuals.

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One thought on “Southern girl standing clear of the closing doors.

  1. Pingback: A 35 year old New Yorker | Some dog, some human.

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