My (Brief)Love Affair with New York, Part 1

The job that broke me

My yearning for a life in New York City started years ago, back in high school. I remember reading books like The Great Gatsby and watching movies like Spider-Man 2 (shoutout to Tobey) and them having such an impact on me I started to liken the city to epic characters and epic lives of meaning and importance.

I won’t bore you with the exact details, but after a few years of working and saving after college, I eventually moved there into a small apartment with my friends. As taken from another article I wrote;

“Some years ago, I was living in New York in a shared apartment with three other people. I had a very small room that was able to fit a twin-sized bed and a desk and it had a very small closet that held my work clothes. I was out in a suburb in Queens and was surrounded by post-war built apartment buildings made of red-brick. Next door was a gargantuan luxury apartment building built in the 50’s/60’s that blocked the view of the sun in the evening. I worked as a business manager but I quickly grew tired of the unimportant demanding tediousness of that work, so I got a job selling jeans in Times Square: every New Yorkers’ greatest fear.

There were times I hated it and times I loved it. I hated it in the blistering cold winter when I was confined to my very small room with the winds bellowing outside; but I loved it in the autumn and the summer and the spring when the trees bloomed or were slowly dying and the weather was…