I don’t know what it is.  I love this city; I loathe this city.  I just returned from a business trip to Boston and I love (lovelove) to see the Manhattan skyline when my plane descends into this city.  It’s a view unlike any other.  A city unlike any other.

I wait for my bags, they don’t come.  I find out I’m at the wrong carousel.  I walk to the right carousel.  My bag is not there.  I walk to the baggage office.  There’s my bag.  But I need my baggage ticket.  Oh, baggage ticket, wherefore art thou in this deep, black depth of a carry on bag?  Never mind, Ms. Emily says the baggage guy….  while he seems quite nice, I’m not really in the mood to flirt with baggage guy.  Despite my fatigue I smile, say thank you and wish him a nice night.  He seems to perk up at this pleasant exchange and tries to get more interaction/time with me.  Sigh, I smile and leave.

Man approaches me asking if I need a cab.  “No”, I reply.  You need a yellow cab, he says.  “No.”, I reply again.  But I add for good measure, “I have someone coming to pick me up”.  A lie.   I even linger before I get into the cab line because I don’t want him to see that I’ve lied to him.  Sigh, I get into the taxi queue.

I reach my neighborhood, gather my belongings from the cab and as it pulls away I think, crap, where is my phone?  In the deep, deep depths of my black hole bag, I search for a moment.  I can’t find it.  I stop myself and tell myself, “it’s over, you can’t change it if you left in the in cab, just get home”.  Sigh, I climb four flights of stairs with my luggage, my black hole bag and my computer case that contains two (very heavy) laptops.

I open the door.  The apartment is stuffy and my neighbor is loud.  There is actually a part of me that wants to drive a spike through his eye-ball.  Maybe then he won’t play his music at a level that I can hear.  Sigh, I put down my things.

Forty five minutes earlier I had been reveling in the New York City skyline.  Now, I’m wondering how I ended up here, in this tiny space, in this loud space, in this non-homey space.  I want quiet.  I want stars. I want vacancy and consideration.  I want to be in a place where people don’t want anything from me.  I want serenity.

Sigh, I’m not sure any of those things can be found. Found here. Sigh.