Post-break

Had a pretty restful break, holed up for about half the time in Camp Bella, and out and about in the spookily warm weather the rest of the time. It's like New York knows, and it's telling me: "Come here, my sweet. Be one of us," kind of like when I visited Our Nation's Capital in the spring of my senior year of college and the weather was warm and the trees beginning to bud and something whispered, "This is the place."

It's not always advisable to listen to the voices in your head, but for better or worse, I ended up living five years in DC because of that whisper. I learned how to live and love in that town, and it holds a special place in my heart.

But there was always a part of me that wondered about New York. The other choice. I didn't move there right after school, and I didn't move there in 1998, when I had an offer with Vault Reports. It seemed too busy, too dirty, too fast-paced, just too much. It wasn't the right time.

So it is the right time now?

There are all the logical reasons: the concentration of good friends (some of whom are even staying for the long haul); the proximity to the career shrink here at Crimson College; the ease of moving to an eastern seaboard city rather than across an ocean or a continent; the wealth of opportunities in other fields so that when I do exit the law, I won't have to deal with a physical move as well as a career one; the comfort of going to a city I'm familiar with and yet still new to.

These are all good reasons, compelling ones. But I could probably pull a list together with good, compelling reasons for each of the other three cities I could fly to next fall. Why New York, then? I don't know, honestly. But there's something about having had such a good time the past few times I've been there this year, that seems to me like a whisper. A faint whisper. A sign.