pardon my blues.

I'm still learning what it means to be a New Yorker, but so far I've found that despite their differences, they all have one thing in common: they love living here, but approximately one day per month, they just want OUT.

Perhaps they are exhausted by the prospect of spending another week (or two? or three?) looking for a job and feeling like a little fish in a big, huge, giant (did I mention big?) pond. A pond that is teeming with larger fish who have more experience and better connections than the little fish. Also, did I mention the pond is experiencing a sharp economic downturn?

Or it could be that in an attempt to experience some good old fashioned Warehouse Club grocery shopping, they wound up spending FIVE hours just trying to get to Costco and back. And when they got home, they realized they had no where to put a giant box of Raisin Bran.

I miss Salt Lake. I miss being able to get in my car and drive to the Maverick. I crave comfort and potlucks and familiarity and convenience stores and uncomfortable shoes and evening strolls that include a limited, yet predictable array of scents. Tonight, I hope I dream about grocery stores with aisles wider than my elbow room and a kitchen big enough to hold a fridge.

I love New York and I love living here, but today is my day to want out. Tomorrow will be different. I'll talk to you then.