So much to do
Since I've told both of my potential readers this information personally, I am now going to spell it out for the rest of you: I have decided to pick up shop and move to New York City. My friend E. has already posted a foreboding beware of new york piece about my apparently ill-conceived plans.
At the risk of repeating what I have now told about thirty friends, I will delve into the details of this one hundred eighty degree life turn.
I have been in Utah for over five years now. My first year in Utah was quite notable. Let's go straight to the list:
At the risk of repeating what I have now told about thirty friends, I will delve into the details of this one hundred eighty degree life turn.
I have been in Utah for over five years now. My first year in Utah was quite notable. Let's go straight to the list:
- Box containing family heirloom Christmas ornaments stolen from my doorstep.
- Credit card number stolen plus subsequent fraudulent use of said number.
- The division of the company I moved here to work for was decimated.
- Two further sets of layoffs at work sent twelve months worth of friends packing.
- Carjacked at gunpoint.
- Subsequent insurance squabble caused temporary, but ugly rift in relationship with stepdad.
- Failed relationship with girl who never considered herself in a relationship with me.
One might say that from the beginning, there were some difficulties that may have affected my attitude towards Utah. But for five plus years I have stuck with it. When I chose to move to Utah, not in my wildest dreams did I imagine being here for over five years. I thought it would be a two years and out kind of situation. And the only reason I thought I would stay that long was to break even on the condo I bought!
So five years later, I have made friends. I have learned to drink socially. I play frisbee; competitively even. I am working for company number two. I have a cat. I have bought furniture. I have traveled around the mountain west. The thing about it is that I have, by many measures, succeeded. BUT, I'm still single. I'm still young. And I still do not consider myself a Utahan. So I have realized that if I do not leave Utah, I will always be here.
The thought process leading to this decision has been greased substantially by the continuing antics at fly-by-night co. I have become open to other possibilities. My recent trip to New York provided me with an excellent alternative to Salt Lake City. It was a place that clicked with me. I have not yet put my finger on the one thing that makes New York click. I believe there is one thing though. According to E., it might be the 3.2 to 1 F/M ratio. That may be it. Don't know. More on that later, I suppose. The point is that I found a reasonable alternative to Salt Lake City.
I turned down two jobs yesterday. I did this without hesitation and without regret. I did not like having to let my friend C. down because I was the guy he needed, but nonetheless, it was clearly the right thing to do. From a personal economic perspective, totally bogus. From a "wow I really do want to get the fuck out of here" perspective though, oh yeah, it was good.
What lies in front of me right now is a list of tasks that just keeps getting longer. I have about seven thousand one-hour tasks to take care of before I get on my way to NYC. My goal is to be out of Salt Lake by the end of October. I should be reading the real estate contract I have to sign or thinning out my wardrobe, but instead I'm writing this. I know what you are thinking: if he's so gung-ho about moving, why is he wasting his time blogging about it? To preserve my sanity, of course. Today I got an inkling such that I now understand what an anxiety attack is. I think I'm going to be able to manage all the excitement, but there was a moment today where I got a taste of crushing, overwhelming stress. At the time, I was looking into options for transporting Mr Orange to Ohio.
Okay, back to the grind for me. No rest for the wicked (or something like that).
So five years later, I have made friends. I have learned to drink socially. I play frisbee; competitively even. I am working for company number two. I have a cat. I have bought furniture. I have traveled around the mountain west. The thing about it is that I have, by many measures, succeeded. BUT, I'm still single. I'm still young. And I still do not consider myself a Utahan. So I have realized that if I do not leave Utah, I will always be here.
The thought process leading to this decision has been greased substantially by the continuing antics at fly-by-night co. I have become open to other possibilities. My recent trip to New York provided me with an excellent alternative to Salt Lake City. It was a place that clicked with me. I have not yet put my finger on the one thing that makes New York click. I believe there is one thing though. According to E., it might be the 3.2 to 1 F/M ratio. That may be it. Don't know. More on that later, I suppose. The point is that I found a reasonable alternative to Salt Lake City.
I turned down two jobs yesterday. I did this without hesitation and without regret. I did not like having to let my friend C. down because I was the guy he needed, but nonetheless, it was clearly the right thing to do. From a personal economic perspective, totally bogus. From a "wow I really do want to get the fuck out of here" perspective though, oh yeah, it was good.
What lies in front of me right now is a list of tasks that just keeps getting longer. I have about seven thousand one-hour tasks to take care of before I get on my way to NYC. My goal is to be out of Salt Lake by the end of October. I should be reading the real estate contract I have to sign or thinning out my wardrobe, but instead I'm writing this. I know what you are thinking: if he's so gung-ho about moving, why is he wasting his time blogging about it? To preserve my sanity, of course. Today I got an inkling such that I now understand what an anxiety attack is. I think I'm going to be able to manage all the excitement, but there was a moment today where I got a taste of crushing, overwhelming stress. At the time, I was looking into options for transporting Mr Orange to Ohio.
Okay, back to the grind for me. No rest for the wicked (or something like that).