It’s been almost a month since I signed my lease and picked up the keys. I’ve bought a bed. I’ve unpacked my bag, hung up my clothes, and filled my fridge with food. I’m settled. I have roots. I have a neighborhood.
Am I at least semi-nomadic? I don’t even know.
People keep asking me when my next trip is.
“I don’t know,” I tell them.
I’m currently on my book tour until April and then will be in Europe in May.
But since these are work-related, I don’t view them as real “for pleasure” travel.
It’s a weird feeling not having anything planned. For the first time in years, I have no idea where or when I’m going next.
All these trip ideas keep popping in and out of my head.
Then I look at my schedule and think – when will I have time to go to these places? When did I become such a grownup with an actual schedule?
Maybe it’s good though. I can slowly adjust to not being constantly on the road.
It hasn’t been as hard as I thought. I haven’t had the desire to sprint to JFK and board the next flight. I haven’t become antsy.
The hardest part has been developing a routine, in part because I am here, then there, and then here again. I’m eating better (though the pizza place next door makes that difficult) but I haven’t joined a gym. I still haven’t managed to develop a good work schedule. I find myself working long days because I’m not doing anything else. I’m used to having to race around to fit in sightseeing and work at the same time. Now, I sit on Facebook, watch my roommate’s TV and then wonder “where did the day go?” because I have nothing to force me to be productive.
That’s something I need to work on. New York City has so much to do that I need to better manage my time so I don’t let the days fly by.
If slowing down has taught me one thing, it’s that I don’t like slowing down.
I need to be busy.
I need action.
I need to better manage my time.
Because I should never waste a day in the city that never sleeps.