Week 4: Fresh flowers and tetanus

Today I’m practicing movement. Taking up space.

The train to New York City is about seven hours and it rides smooth. I feel movement beneath my feet, metal to earth, trailing alongside the Eerie canal.

You might mistake it for a rainforest. If you’re three days dehydrated and coming down from acid.

Rochester, everyone here is a college student or a disassociated adult. Far from purpose and deep into the hole of suburbia.

I know once this road trip is over in two years, I’ll want to live somewhere else. New York City is a strong contender,

fresh flowers and tetanus.

Have a few Carrie Bradshaw years trying to make it as a writer.

A Sex In The City reference, original. I saw the movie a few years ago but not the show, wrong generation.

I’m fully prepared to lean into every cliche I’ve historically prevented myself from enjoying.

Moving to the big city to be writer. Letting my freak flag fly and finding myself.

I saved my $95 for the week and had my last weekend at the old restaurant.

The NEW restaurant begins the day I return from New York, movement. After the customers I encountered this past weekend I cannot wait to no longer provide full-service dinner.

Full-service dinner feels like a full-service gas station.

A ridiculous request of a stranger, that they serve you and kiss your ass for a 20% tip. I’d rather serve you for two seconds and forget about you in another two.

On my cover letter I wrote some “bartending gives you the unique opportunity to experience the human condition” bullshit.

Basically I eavesdrop on and judge people behind three feet of bar.

Now that’s behind me, I can embrace this movement today. I’ll go grocery shopping and do some yoga when I get in.

I think movement will be a big theme these next few years.

Today I’m practicing movement, taking up space.

xoxo Ten