I’m sure we’ve all gone through the phase of “what’s the meaning of of my life?” at least once so far. I was struggling with that phase a LOT about 2 years ago when I was living in Los Angeles. My life was pretty good, I have to admit. Oddly enough, that probably made me feel suffocated. At least Husband was also feeling similarly, with his job that he hated so much. We were itching to do something about it — we were dying to move to New York. We watched Woody Allen movies, visited during Christmas and our longings worsened. Would living here really be like how it is in the movies?
So after moving here, did Manhattan live up to my hyped our expectations? No… It was even better.