The early morning sun was lightly seeping through my off-white persian blinds. The light was soft, providing hints of a new day. I slowly stretched and softly turned over, making sure my hair stayed loosely behind my ears with a sleepy toss. I cradled my pillow under my head and found the perfect nook along my husbands form. As my muscles relaxed, and my upper eyelids kissed their southern neighbor, I was harshly reminded that I am on someone else's schedule. That of the neighbors upstairs, with their four-(ish) year old child, bursting with energy, popping out of bed at that magical moment every morning to march around and bounce his [bowling] ball to no avail. Welcome to my world, the world of living below people with children. I want to provide the same disruption of life to them as they do me every morning, especially on those lazy Sundays, but I don't.
It's time for us to go...
It's time for us to go...
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So is my life: I'm moving yet again. My hubby and I terminated our lease only after four months (with penalties of course, ugh) and this week we are back in Manhattan (yay). Not only will we be back in Manhattan, but this is not bad, because after being forced to leave our current apartment due to extreme noise violations form noisy neighbors, we were able to find the apartment we've always dreamed of, in the sky, with a balcony, overlooking Central Park, and right on Museum Mile! I'm living on cloud nine right now just thinking of it!
They say that you can manifest what you want by keeping it in your mind. I think I did that, with a splash of good karma. Good Bye Brooklyn, I really do love you, you raised me, but I'm a Manhattan girl at heart!
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And good riddens little jute-box upstairs! It's been real.
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