On Friday I'm headed to California - "right back where I started from."
Well, first I have to do the work thing and head up to San Francisco for a few days. It will be room service, hotel soaps, and frequent flyer miles. I really should be more excited. And I am, I just don't know it. It will be nice to get away, get some relaxation time, and see some of my old friends.
Then I'm headed "home" for a few days to visit the folks and fam. Again, I am excited but lately when I leave the city I feel like I'm missing something. K says it is the plight of the Manhattanite. Our lives are so infused with subways, take out, things just around the corner that when we get out of that element we're lost... I spent this past weekend in Long Island and when I found myself wandering in the rain at an outlet mall trying to decide whether to get dinner there or wait, the thought "Well when I get home I can just run to the store next door and get something." popped into my head. Nevermind the fact that there was a kitchen, food, and a friend willing to cook for me where I was staying that night. I now live in a city that delivers McDonald's, a city where you can run out for a bagel at 2 am, a city that has completely "citified" me.
It really has... Not just in the actual luxuries (translation - ways that I am spoiled and becoming more undomesticated as the days go by) but also in the way that I think I'm going to miss out on something spectacular if I leave. I know that the parks, the Happy Hour specials, the impromptu plans to go to the movies, out with friends, etc. will always be here. This city doesn't sleep and will keep churning and buzzing and speeding along with me when I return. The only time table I have is my own. This city knows no such time and will not miss me. But I will miss it. Even as the sandy Southern California beaches simultaneously call my name.