My December to Remember II: Day Twenty-Eight
News: Hong Kong ends Covid restrictions as Biden admin weighs limiting travel from China over virus concerns.
Bidens in St. Croix as America faces historic snowstorm.
Title 42 to remain in place by Supreme Court order until at least February.
I think about moving out of New York City all the time. I mean, can you blame me? This city is a veritable hellscape right now. I have zero idea how my co-workers have fun here every day. I’m very comfy here in my apartment, but wouldn’t I be better off somewhere not stupid? Should I just pack up all my things and move to my dream home in Vermont? I’d pay less and have more space and fresh air to breathe, even if I can’t smell it. I’ll actually have a view of nature rather than an alleyway. It’s better than being surrounded by nine million people at all times, right?
I mean, sure. Why not? But what makes me think I’ll solve anything by running away from what ails me?
There’s always this rallying cry from conservabros on Twitter: Get out of cities. They act like they’re so much better than everyone because they don’t have to live in this deep blue liberal toilet bowl like the rest of us. It’s not that I absolutely hate it here, I just am becoming a recluse here. You could literally pick my apartment up and transfer it anywhere in the country and I’d be no different. I’d just need a car as my main source of transportation instead of my feet.
And yet something is keeping me here. I’m not ready to leave yet. There’s no need to go. I feel like I’ll be abandoning this city if I just up and leave. For some reason I’ve taken it upon myself to be one of New York’s saviors, and I can’t go until I know she’s safe.
Moving elsewhere isn’t going to magically transform me into a different person. I’ll still be me with all the baggage that comes along with it. Cutting ties with a place when you have unfinished business seems like a stupid thing to do. There are millions of new lives out there for me if I so choose, but if I can do some good here first, why wouldn’t I at least try?
Back when I worked at Fox & Friends, I took a week-long vacation by myself to Punta Cana. I stayed in a resort the whole time and basically just tanned, drank, read stories, and wrote. I didn’t talk to anyone else the entire time. I did a few activities while enjoying the sunshine, but I couldn’t stop thinking about work. I kept counting down the days until I had to go back, to be miserable in a job I wasn’t good at, where I had to wake up in the middle of the night and slog away writing stories I didn’t care about. I could not stop thinking about it, and I feel like it ruined my trip. I wanted to get away from things and I just brought them all with me. And I think similar things would happen if I moved without finishing what I need to do here.
I just don’t exactly know what that is yet.
I’ve been doing my part lately. I’m trying to pull the city out of her Covid stupor. The other day I pushed down a gigantic flag that screamed COVID-19 TESTS in front of one of the six tents I passed that morning. Then I took a sign that said PLEASE WEAR A MASK AS YOU APPROACH THE TENT and threw it in the street. Did that to two of them, actually. Then I unzipped one of the tents from the back. You know, to help dismantle them. And then I got on the phone to 311 to report trash on the street in the form of the myriad testing tents. I’m just doing my part, bringing out my inner Karen who’s fast becoming an agent of chaos. If lawlessness is the name of the game, I’ll play along. If I have to call 311 every day until I can figure out why New York has such a hard on for Covid, then that’s what I’ll do.
But I know it’s not going to end there for me. There’s other things I need to know. Things I need to figure out. I’ve assessed giving myself two more years in my beautiful apartment, to live with my brand new closet and custom murphy bed for a little bit before I have to pack everything up again and go. These aren’t plans, just thoughts and feelings. I said I’d see where things go after this last election, and I’m not sure four years of Kuntface Kathy Hochul is going to do anything for my sanity. But I’ve got to keep trying. I refuse to believe New York is above saving.
This is my home. This is where I was born. I will always be able to call myself a genuine New Yorker. Not everyone gets that privilege. And if you must go, why not leave a place better than you found it? I just have to keep trying. Vermont will just have to wait.