At the four-weeks-till-New-York mark, I finally started to feel like I was on a downward slope to my departure. Up until that point, it felt like an uphill battle, like I was just never going to get there. I am so antsy to just start my life, to see my new apartment. I’ve only been to NYC once, six years ago, I want to investigate my new city. I want to find bookstores, coffee shops, friends, classes, causes, readings, shows. I want to get started, and it is painful to be just hanging out. My sister is in town, and I fully expect her to entertain me for the next week. Then I’ll be in Seattle with my wonderful friends. Then it’s Labor Day weekend. Then it’s my birthday. Then I’m outta here. In between, there’s work, applying to new jobs, sleeping, knitting, hanging out with the handful of friends that I do still have here. I still can’t get the countdown out of my head. Patience is a virtue that I just don’t have.
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