I’m losing my mind.
New York, I love you, and we’re struggling. It’s a mess out there. Half the city has no lights, people are desperately trying to get back to work and back to normal, and we can’t. It’s impossible.
I have it way way way better than most. I’ve got electricity, and my health, and my cat. We’re all good. And I’m still about to lose it. Work is a mess–we’re working from home the best we can, but systems are down, employees have no power, and our building was flooded. Plus, what train would take me to the city to work? I’m so thankful I have a job where I can work from home, and that my income doesn’t depend on a three-hour commute on a crowded bus. I’m very worried for people who need to get do a doctor, or refill a prescription. I’m just about out of food, and I’m a little afraid to enter the supermarket scene.
My friends are scattered. I’ve never felt this far away from them. We used to be separated by a quick train ride through a tunnel and now it feels like oceans. Might as well be. My friends downtown are still in the dark.
And what about those who lost their homes, and their loved ones? How do you even begin to pick up the pieces?
It’s gonna be a long road, New York. But what else can we do? You can see it on people’s faces: the exasperation, the tiredness. And also the kindness. My neighborhood bar isn’t able to have their usual menu, so they ordered everyone pizza. The coffee shop is crowded with people chatting, trying to get out of their house, get their life back together. Sandy is the only topic of conversation.
The worst might be over. But I am exhausted.