When I left Chicago two years ago, I wasn’t unhappy. I had a good job. No, actually, I had a GREAT job. I had an active dating life. I had wonderful friends. And, I had a beautiful 2-bedroom apartment to myself — complete with a 15-foot garden path that led up to the building. So, the obvious question is: why did I leave? Well, truth be told, I wanted more. I kind of felt like I’d hit a plateau because there wasn’t room to advance any further. In addition to the career plateau, I didn’t feel like I was growing as a person anymore. Every day started to feel exactly like the previous one. Each month no different from the one before. I don’t mean to imply that I didn’t like my life in Chicago. That’s certainly not true. I loved my life there. I’d just stopped growing. I knew it. My friends knew it. My supervisor knew it. “If things don’t work out in New York,” I remember the big guy told me, “we’d always welcome you back here with open arms.”
So, off I went to New York.
Truth be told, I thought that I’d pick up in New York exactly where I left off in Chicago. I knew there would be minor changes. For example, I’d resigned myself to the fact that I’d have a smaller apartment. But, I thought I’d have a 1-bedroom instead of a 2-bedroom. Oh, oh, oh. Little did I know that I’d crash with three different friends in two boroughs, live with a psychotic roommate and then get priced out of my new apartment (that had a mouse, mind you) before settling into my current building. And, all of that occurred within my first 16 months here.
If the living situation was shaky, life on the job front was unbelievably tumultuous. I’m not going to go into detail, because I never blog about work. For now, suffice it to say out with the old and in with the new. I’ve been with the new company since last summer, and I like it. It’s a day job that supports me while I finish my part-time MA program and pursue my creative projects.
Speaking of my creative projects, oddly enough, that’s the one area of my life that has worked out fairly well here in New York. It’s nothing that I could have ever predicted, but it’s definitely a very welcome surprise. I’m publishing more articles in print. Online, I’m ever-thankful for the gig with Nerve; it gives me the freedom to write about my life in a more sexual way than I’m used to. And, on air, my internet radio show & podcast (Dating Roadkill) returns for another season soon. Everything has worked out so well, that I’ve actually had to scale back a bit. For a while there, I routinely pulled 14-hour days. I would work a full-time schedule at the day job, run to my nighttime MA classes and then jet back to do the late-night radio show Once the show was over, I would stay up even later to write my blog posts and send out freelance gigs. When I had time, I’d fit my homework in between everything else that I was doing. It was too much. And, I needed to free up my schedule for new proposals that were coming my way.
At the moment, I only have the day job, the freelance writing gigs, and a few new things brewing that I can’t discuss yet. On other fronts, I still have a short while before Dating Roadkill starts up again. And, I’m not taking the MA classes this summer because I need the time off. Speaking of time off, it’s worth mentioning that I leave for a short trip tomorrow. As I mentioned a week ago, I’m going to Barbados with my friend Raj for 4 days. I’ve attended a wedding in the Hamptons last summer, flown around the US & the UK for for work a year ago, and I’ve gone to Illinois and Vegas to see family. But, the Barbados trip will be the first real vacation — i.e. no agenda-related travel — I’ve taken since the summer *before* I moved to New York. So, yes, if you’re counting, that’s three years without a vacation. I wanted to get away sooner but, at times, I didn’t have the money. At other times, I was busy trying to cope in New York. With the constant changes in my work and living situation, I couldn’t imagine going on vacation because my worries and problems would have just followed me right along on my journey. But, those days are behind me. New challenges, rewards (I hope) and other adventures are ahead.
Less than 24 hours to Barbados. I’ve never needed a vacation so badly in my fucking life.
Technorati Tags: Illinois
Aye, Illinois, my beloved homestate. Over the past 40 years, Illinois has had eight governors. Exactly half have been sent to prison. Can *ANY* other state stake that claim on history?! Gov. Dan Walker was convicted in the Savings and Loan Association scandal of the 80s. Gov. Rod Blagojevich, allegedly tried to “sell” Obama’s senate seat. Gov. Otto Kerner, according to the Chicago Tribune, was convicted of “bribery, conspiracy, income-tax evasion, mail fraud and perjury”. George Ryan: Racketeering? Check. Conspiracy? Check. Fraud? Check. Victim of anal rape? Um, well, we all sadly know what happens in prison. Illinois gangsters, I tell ya. Straight up corn-loving gangsters. Why this topic today? To truly understand today’s Manly Monday pick, you’ve gotta understand how we roll in Illinois. Things are special out in the cornfields. Really special.
I think I’m having an identity crisis. (Fret not; it’s not personal, it has to do with my long-term professional life / career goals in general.) Exactly five years ago, I moved to Illinois. I was jobless, somewhat irritated and confused. [Click here for the 
