Sore Ass, or A Whole New World

I have had a few inquiries as to why my ass was sore, as I stated in my Nor'easter post. This has confirmed two things for me: 1.) Y'all are SO PERVIE and 2.) I clearly associate with the right kind of people!

However, the answer to your question is that I made a mini-move. I've mentioned before that I lead quite the gypsy lifestyle here in New York, though if I could have it ANY other way, I absolutely would. This is not the ideal situation for me, but I may have cursed myself long ago when I read an article in New York Magazine about how the average New Yorker will live in SEVEN apartments in their lifetime here. I remember thinking, "That SO won't be me!" And now here I am, on my FIFTH address, though this one is very temporary.

I like the new place a lot. I wish I could afford to stay in the hood. It's very nice, very picturesque, safe, convenient to work, gym, trains, alcohol, etc...

I am having major anxiety about leaving Manhattan proper. I don't want to leave. I don't know why. When I am in Brooklyn, I want to live there. But I love Manhattan! And then I think, "it's just where I sleep." But I can't afford to live only a minimal life anymore. I want to kick everything up a notch, and that requires fundage, and in Manhattan, everything I earn is already compromised.

It makes sense to move out to Brooklyn. Kelly's out there, and so are a lot of my friends from college. It does remind me a lot of Boston, where I went to college, and which I absolutely loved without exception.

So why am I having this anxiety about leaving Manhattan? Am I really that attached to it, or am I just reluctant to let this particular music video end?