Thirty three and counting
Maybe that's what it takes. A walk up and down Broadway at 4 a.m. on the first warm Saturday night of the year, which also happens to be my birthday. A hug from a drunk big black dude who couldn't complete a sentence to save his life. Hearing the F-word about a hundred times, mostly from people who aren't getting any tonight -- or else why would they be staying out till the closing time? Smoking a couple of clove cigarettes from the pack I bought back in November but haven't had an opportunity to open until today. And thinking. About what it's like to be me.
All in all, it's not so bad. Married, for about seven and a half months now. So far, so good. Back in New York, this time right in the middle of where all the action is. Living in an apartment that is not yet fully furnished, but should become a "dream come true" within a few months. Back in school, and not just at any university but a member of the "elitist" Ivy League. And, after initially being afraid to fail out, actually scoring in the top 25% in most of my classes. Still freaking out about my prospects for the supposedly all-important summer internship, but deep inside knowing that something will eventually come up. Yet generally living a life that is such a blur that there is hardly ever any time to stop for a bit, breathe in some air, and actually enjoy the many things that I've worked so hard to get.
I was twenty six when I first moved to the City. I was deep in debt, unemployed, and generally miserable. I guess back then I would be proud of myself if I knew that in about seven years I will be where I am today. And that's a good thing to keep in mind.
All in all, it's not so bad. Married, for about seven and a half months now. So far, so good. Back in New York, this time right in the middle of where all the action is. Living in an apartment that is not yet fully furnished, but should become a "dream come true" within a few months. Back in school, and not just at any university but a member of the "elitist" Ivy League. And, after initially being afraid to fail out, actually scoring in the top 25% in most of my classes. Still freaking out about my prospects for the supposedly all-important summer internship, but deep inside knowing that something will eventually come up. Yet generally living a life that is such a blur that there is hardly ever any time to stop for a bit, breathe in some air, and actually enjoy the many things that I've worked so hard to get.
I was twenty six when I first moved to the City. I was deep in debt, unemployed, and generally miserable. I guess back then I would be proud of myself if I knew that in about seven years I will be where I am today. And that's a good thing to keep in mind.