I’ve been thinking about New York lately. Wondering if she misses me and feels a bit replaced.
Chicago is a great city. A fabulous city. But it is not New York. I miss the corner grocers with endless fruit and flowers that made my face light up, no matter how hard the day had been. I miss that awful smell that came when descending into the subway. I miss the substantial transfers that only seem to exist here at Clark/Lake. I. miss. the cupcakes. And the black-and-white cookies. I miss the hobos that sing and do acrobatics on the subway cars.
In choosing a place to live I remember saying that if New York was in my future it would make itself known. “I could always get an internship for the summer.” “I could still look into a second masters.” “There are jobs in New York.” I said. But I also knew that my “yes” to Chicago was a “no” to the Big Apple. Not that I still can’t go–but my life has direction and meaning here now. I’d rather finish grad school than take a summer off. I’m pretty antsy not to be in school anymore and the thought of another degree is much less appealing than a job. Let’s be serious–there aren’t really library jobs anywhere, most especially New York.
Plus. New York doesn’t have Deutschs.
And worst of all, I’m happy here.