I was asked yesterday what I’m looking forward to when I get back home. I answered, “cricket, warm weather, and seeing my family and friends”. But, obviously, not necessarily in that order. It occurred to me today that I’m also looking forward to not being so busy or surrounded by so many busy, busy, busy people.
New York’s just like that. You invite people to a party here and a bunch of them won’t even respond: they won’t say they’ll be there, they won’t say they can’t make it, and then they won’t show up. It’s not because they hate you. It’s just because they’re busy, overwhelmed, drowning. And when I’m here I wind up just as busy, just as behind with everything, unable to get all my work done, see all my friends, do all the cool things that I’ve heard rumours can be done in NYC.
It’s not that we’re not busy in Sydney. I’m a feelancer. My workload’s pretty much the same wherever I am. It’s not that I don’t have lots of busy friends there—hey Kate! It’s just that, I don’t know, busy is bigger in New York City. Wider. Denser. Hungrier.
Sydney’s slower, calmer, and much more relaxing. I can’t wait to get back there.