I should be a politician because I’m a fantastic f-ing flip-flopper. I wrote a post in the beginning of the summer that read as a love letter to Manhattan, but two months later I’ve pulled a Mitt Romney and/or John Kerry and totally changed my mind. I spent time in Chicago and California this summer and discovered that happiness—contrary to what anxiety-ridden New Yorkers have taught me—isn’t just a fictional thing projected by Hollywood rom coms.
So, to begin a short series of posts about city life:
Reasons I’m Leaving New York (That Could Also Be Used to Break Up with Someone)
You’ve turned vegan but have no idea why.
You’re stuck in a constant hustle and bustle, always silently screaming, “Yes I hear you, but I really must go now.”
You look kind of shitty in the winter.
You’re too tall.
You only wear black and gray. Ever heard of color?
You think you’re surrounded by nature because of Central Park.
You make it too easy for me to make lists about what’s wrong with you.
You smell like urine.