I’m feeling exhausted. Burnt out. In need of a beach vacation or a massage, but I’ll settle for a cupcake and some TV time after my laundry is done. I’ve been a New Yorker for 15 weeks. As I’ve mentioned previously, this city just has a way of keeping a person busy. For fun, I’ve consulted my smartphone apps to find out where my energy has gone.
3: Number of classes I’ve finished at New York University.
2: Number of Broadway plays I’ve seen.
7: Number of first dates I’ve been on (not counting girl dates).
3: Number of meetup.com events I’ve attended.
0: Number of times I ate breakfast at home last week.
3: Current number of trips I’m planning.
5: Number of times I’ve left the island of Manhattan.
3: Number of museums I’ve visited.
13: Number of times I’ve gone running.
48: Number of blog entries I’ve written.
2,014: Number of dollars I’ve spent on food.
4,750: Number of dollars I’ve spent on rent.
0: Number of times I’ve missed my car.
3: Number of out-of-town visitors I’ve seen.
1,260: Conservative number of flights of stairs I’ve walked.
I’ve got five weeks off before I begin my summer session class. I’m either going out of town or having guests here four of the next five weekends. I fully intend to make good use of these weeks to add to the number of museums visited, go to yoga and otherwise enjoy Manhattan.
I’m a journalist, content strategist, doting auntie, amateur bobsledder, fitness enthusiast, and wannabe health nut (who loves chocolate and pizza too much to fully commit). I don't want you to think my life is perfect. It's not.