Is this a good idea?
This isn’t. This is a terrible idea.
It’s too late now, though: I already bought the plane ticket.
One-way. So much more poetic that way.
What if no one hires me?
I mean, I haven’t been able to find full-time employment in Minneapolis. Why would New York be any different?
Because there are more writing jobs, remember?
Okay, but are there?
I need to get a comforter to sleep with.
And a mattress. And sheets.
How much rent does one pay when crashing on a friend’s floor? A third?
I am breaking out so much.
What if I’m never calm again?
Ok, but have I ever been calm?
Everyone who I say I’m moving to says, “Congrats! What job did you get?” And then I say, “no job!” and smile hugely, and they stare at me for six full seconds, then mutter something like: “Wow, so brave.”
Like I’m fighting a deadly disease.
Are there grocery stores in New York? There must be, right? Not just little corner stores?
I wonder how the subway works.
I need to find something to listen to or read on commutes. That’s what New Yorkers do. Well, if I have a job to commute to.
Please let me get a job to commute to.
Ok, this is gonna work. It’s gonna be great. Like Friends, or Sex and the City.
Without the money, or friends, or, um, apartment.
But hopefully with the sexy men.
Who eventually want to move back to Minnesota with me to live near my family.
With three dogs and two cats.
I bet New York has a lot of dogs, just like, walking around. There are a lot in movies.
Like…Must Love Dogs. And You’ve Got Mail.
Those are such terrible movies.