I have to admit that I love jet lag this way. I'm not a morning person but 6 hours time difference makes me into one and within the first week of my New York adventure I managed two 7am yoga classes. Not only were these yoga classes a great way of starting my morning, they were also some of the best yoga classes I have ever taken. Perhaps this was simply due to me being able to fully understand exactly what the teacher said because the past three years my random Vinyasa has been in Swedish and it was hard of me not to laugh when the teacher sad in his/her singing Swedish '...och hunden' (literally "...and the dog"). Just like ballet is in French (it's a different story but when I took ballet class in California I missed out on half the movements because the teacher pronounced all the French terms with a thick English accent), yoga is in English.
But jet lag doesn't last forever, especially not when going to secret speakeasy clubs on a Tuesday night, drinking bourbon. My healthy, hip lifestyle got ruined in one fun evening leading to a hangover on a week day. Luckily I am moving to my "permanent" apartment in the West Village where no yoga class is to be found before 9am. Which makes it hard for me to go because I like to get a good start to my working day sitting at my desk at 8:30am. Or at least that's my plan here.
Sometimes I just can't believe my luck. Things just come to me, perhaps because I try hard or because because people recognize me as a good, honest person. Or perhaps because the moon is looking after me. Perhaps because when all comes down to it I'm a positive person and I am more happy about the great things happening to me than sad about all the crappy things. In any case I managed to score the most gorgeous apartment in the middle of everything. It is exactly five blocks away from where Friends were supposed to take place (yep, I checked the building in the show and it is on the corner of Bedford and Grove Street) and 20 minutes walk from my work. My bedroom window has a view of the Empire State Building. It's bigger than my place in Stockholm, it even has a separate bedroom. The lady who has the apartment is the sweetest thing ever, and her books and art make the place a living place. I'm paying 500$ less than what others are paying in that area because she "rather wants someone she can trust" than a lot of money. I got the keys today and walked over after work, just to take in the place. It's typical New York with non-adjustable heat, a bathroom with broken tiles and windows that are unable to shut completely, leading to a constant draft. There is no hall way and no place to put shoes and coats and one of the ceiling lights is not working. The view from the living room is across a tiny backyard, two meters from the other wall and the other windows, so you really just want to keep the blinds down the whole time. But it's New York and it's mine. And I love it.
But jet lag doesn't last forever, especially not when going to secret speakeasy clubs on a Tuesday night, drinking bourbon. My healthy, hip lifestyle got ruined in one fun evening leading to a hangover on a week day. Luckily I am moving to my "permanent" apartment in the West Village where no yoga class is to be found before 9am. Which makes it hard for me to go because I like to get a good start to my working day sitting at my desk at 8:30am. Or at least that's my plan here.
Sometimes I just can't believe my luck. Things just come to me, perhaps because I try hard or because because people recognize me as a good, honest person. Or perhaps because the moon is looking after me. Perhaps because when all comes down to it I'm a positive person and I am more happy about the great things happening to me than sad about all the crappy things. In any case I managed to score the most gorgeous apartment in the middle of everything. It is exactly five blocks away from where Friends were supposed to take place (yep, I checked the building in the show and it is on the corner of Bedford and Grove Street) and 20 minutes walk from my work. My bedroom window has a view of the Empire State Building. It's bigger than my place in Stockholm, it even has a separate bedroom. The lady who has the apartment is the sweetest thing ever, and her books and art make the place a living place. I'm paying 500$ less than what others are paying in that area because she "rather wants someone she can trust" than a lot of money. I got the keys today and walked over after work, just to take in the place. It's typical New York with non-adjustable heat, a bathroom with broken tiles and windows that are unable to shut completely, leading to a constant draft. There is no hall way and no place to put shoes and coats and one of the ceiling lights is not working. The view from the living room is across a tiny backyard, two meters from the other wall and the other windows, so you really just want to keep the blinds down the whole time. But it's New York and it's mine. And I love it.
this is like the happiest post from you in AGES! yay!
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