Way back on October 28th 2010, I landed at JFK with a couple of suitcases, a bass guitar, and a six-month placement job at my company’s New York office. Today – 1,000 days later – I’m wearing red white & blue, living in Brooklyn, waiting for my H1-B work visa to arrive, and actually caring whether the Yankees win or lose.
They say that everyone should live in New York at least once, and once you do live in New York you don’t have time to wonder who ‘they’ are because all you can think of is planning the next week of free shows, pop-up restaurants, and the slew of excuses to run outside and play in the sunshine on the beaches and parks. I no longer do grocery shopping, nor cook at home, wash my clothes, read the news, fill up my car, watch TV or any of the hundred other things I thought were a mandatory part of the daily schedule and yet I’m still so busy enjoying life that the majority of my time spent at home is spent getting my 6 or 7 hours of sleep in.
I say trash instead of rubbish now; I’ve drunk iced tea more than once (and almost enjoyed it); and though I still refuse to drop the prepositions in ‘a couple of’ or ‘I’ll write to you’, I no longer cringe when someone else does. I look left when I cross the street. Then, I look right too because, seriously, have you seen New York cyclists? I know the tune to This Land Is Your Land after a painful round of Cranium, and I own socks that look like cheeseburgers.
Whilst I could rattle off a list of rooftop bars, spend hours discussing brunch spots and write a well-informed essay on the relative merits of NYC’s ping-pong establishments, I have essentially no idea what’s happening in the outside world. I simply don’t care who’s pregnant, who just attacked who and what a politician just said. Is that wrong? Should I care? I try and do good things and make people happy whenever I see an opportunity in front of me, but I just can’t find it in my heart to truly care about events I can never influence, which will most likely never influence me.
Whatever’s changed, whatever’s the same, I’m happy right now, and that means every choice I made up to this point was the right one. And, most importantly of all, I’ve finally learned what happens when the little ‘Day x’ counter on the top left of my blog posts reaches four digits. But I’m too busy to fix it.
God Bless America.