I Don’t Need to Sleep
I’m belted into the window seat and the sun’s going down. My flight was delayed on the tarmac for two hours but that doesn’t upset me. What was already going to be a late bed time has been pushed back further. I have to be at work early tomorrow. But that doesn’t upset me. I am upset, though. I’m upset because my favorite place in the world is behind me and two months of longing is in front.
For years now I’ve had the idea that I’d live in Manhattan. When I was a high school sophomore the idea sounded nice, but distant. It was exciting but I wasn’t anxious about it. When I applied to colleges, I didn’t seek schools for English and Political Science. I saught schools in New York. I made the enormous mistake of visiting before I heard back, so when I returned home all I could think about was how upset I’d be if I didn’t get in. I did. The idea was becoming more real. Grades, AP exams, and graduation kept me distracted and the waiting didn’t hurt.
For the past year I’ve known this is where I want to spend the next four years of my life. Now, with sixty days until I move in, New York feels farther away than ever.
It was this latest trip that did me in. When Daddy Warbucks and Annie broke into “NYC” during my first Broadway show, I wanted to cry. In the observation room on the 102nd story of the Empire State Building last night, the idea that I’d call this magnificient city home hit hard. On the steps of Tiffany and Co. on Fifth Avenue, pastry in hand, immitating Audrey Hepburn… It was romantic. Sixty tedious days as an ITO intern at a car dealership contractor in west central Texas separate me from a life in my favorite city.
I’m belted into the window seat and the sun has set. I’m begging the pilot to turn around.