Why the hell not.
So I found the the document I had been using to write drafts of blogs for this and didn’t realize that I hadn’t posted any of them.
Here is a cynical one about living in a city. It’s alright. But I do genuinely like the line about not going anywhere because “your cats would miss you.” Enjoy.
You know when you visit “downtown” in a really cool city, let’s say THE city, New York, and you’re walking around looking at all the cute little boutiques and snazzy little cafes and watching all the chic people shopping at these cute little boutiques and dining at these snazzy little cafes, and you think to yourself “MAN, it would be so awesome to live in a city like this!”
You’re wrong.
All those “chic” people that you are admiring are either a) tourists, b) ridiculously wealthy, or c) all of the above. They are not you if you lived in a city. You if you lived in a city would be, first and foremost, broke. You would live slightly outside of this happening downtown scene, in a neighborhood considered by those who live there to be “decent” but to everyone else as “I think we made a wrong turn” or “well, this sure is off the beaten path…”(and probably not in a good way). When you are not working (if you have a job) you spend most of your time at home or at least within a 3-block radius of home. The only “boutiques” you go to are CVS and you don’t go to any cafes because you have a tea kettle, a stove and the Internet at home. And your cats would miss you. (Yes, whether you actually own cats or not, at least one cat is dependent on you.)
Sure, you live close enough to the happening downtown to go visit at any time, but why bother? You are not going to shop in the cute little boutiques. There are only so many times in your life when you will be in need of a vintage apron, and you can’t afford anything there anyway, so even just window shopping is more likely to be a depressing reminder that you are poor than a “fun foray into city living.” Sure those snazzy little cafes ARE snazzy (and little) but a cup of coffee is a cup of coffee and you can get one of those at the Dunkin Donuts around the corner from your house. Fine dining? Really? Why are you doing this to yourself?
Your meals come from one of three places: your perpetually understocked fridge/pantry, a street food truck, or whatever you can salvage from people’s plates at the fine dining restaurant where you bus tables (because you WILL work at a restaurant at some point [if not all points...] in your city life).
…and it just kind of ends there. I guess I never actually finished it. And I’m not going to now.
