When you are in your twenties and you live in NYC life is good. Though you really don’t have or make much money you manage to visit some wild art galleries, catch Broadway shows and a few concerts at MSG, eat at amazing restaurants with your friends and see free movie screenings.
Sometimes in between happy hours (at a place with outside seating that makes you feel like sitting on a nasty sidewalk off 3rd Ave is doing an outdoor activity) and Pinkberry, you find yourself eating a peanut butter sandwich for dinner on a paper plate, with chocolate soy milk and a banana. This is usually because you live alone.
While savoring your kind-of-nutritious-yet-not- a-real-meal dinner you are usually in the midst of another activity, despite the fact that it is almost 10:30pm. If you are still in college/grad school this can range from research papers to the Pope visiting the synagogue next to your school tomorrow and you don’t have anyone covering the event to finding semi-cheap restaurants in the Hamptons for a story you are freelancing. In my case, I was freaking out because the Pope was in town, The Envoy wasn’t on it and I hadn’t even gone through all my emails yet.
OK let’s rewind–I wasn’t just freaking out because of the Pope issue. I was in one of those mind-whirlwinds, where you get caught up in your own world that you deem to be too chaotic and too pressure-filled so you have a mini panic attack just thinking about all the stuff you didn’t finish (and didn’t blog about).
Recap of important events/happenings/semi-epiphanies: