So my boyfriend is a pain in the ass, and thinks I need to post something every fucking hour.
I mean I have a job, that I do stuff at. Like, grown up stuff. A lot.
Ok, maybe I don't do much at work, but still. It's the principle of the matter.
So while commuting to work today I got bitch slapped by a bird. I was just walking to the train, jamming out to some Miley when all of a sudden I feel a FWAP against my skull. I stop, very perplexed...and then it happens again and I see this fucking asshole bird fly up and start following me along the fence. After checking myself for birdshit on my nice shirt, I ran away. NYC birds are assholes.
Anyway, this got me thinking about the idea of aggression vs. assertiveness. Also about my feelings for NYC, and how as I get older I get the urge to branch out a bit. I am not overly assertive. At all. I've been likened to a doormat. I may look all tough with my boxing gloves and F-bombs, but at heart I'm a softie and I just want to be everyone's friend. But in this city it's all a rat race; you can't get anywhere without throwing some elbows, and quite honestly I don't know the first thing about tapping into that side of myself. It was there a long time ago, but its been squashed for so long I don't even know if it can be revived.
I love NYC, I love the hustle and bustle, the energy, the convenience, the abundance and the variety of options it has. I'm very fortunate to inherit my residence here, my parents sacrificed everything to come here 32 years ago. But lately, I've been feeling the depression that comes from not making enough to move out, the lack of breathing room, the constantly being pushed aside simply because someone else has bigger elbows. I want green and ocean and a lifestyle that I don't have to haul ass in order to even stay afloat.
But then, today I'm taking the elevator back up to work and a very professional looking man lets out a wet fart, and says "ooh!" and I'm reminded of the very heart of NYC: a sick, assholish sense of humor.
And I laughed.