“It’s ONLY 3.5 blocks. Any human with two arms, two legs and a pulse should easily move four – no – three and a half short blocks . If they rely on others, they should just get the F out of NYC.” …was what I repeatedly told people while turning down offers to help me move.
What a gigantic mistake. I was wrong.
Boy, was I wrong.
It started with underestimating the distance. Then, overestimating my superpowers equals formula for Fin disaster. You better believe I paid for it. Big time. What – in theory – was only supposed to be a 3-4 hour move? Ended up taking all. frickin’. day.
After about the fourth-ish leg, I knew that in order for me to keep it together, I needed moral support. Turning to friends via phone calls / texts / Facebook something, anything, to find people I love cheering me on was exactly what I needed. Encouragement helped me push through. And it worked. I did it.
Ok, fine. So it took about a good eight hours. A few ‘I am independent and bad-ass yet still can be a damsel in distress’ acts for kind strangers to help with the super heavy stuff. But still, I hauled most of my crap all by myself. Didn’t call the people who offered to help me move. I didn’t even cab it! And you know what? It feels DAMN good. I don’t remember the last time I felt this empowered (in my personal life).
So New York? You may have kicked my ass through the apartment hunting process but in the end, I OWNED YOUR ASS, BITCH!
It’s true when they say if you make it here, you can make it anywhere. I feel like I can conquer the world.
Next up: world domination.