When I moved to DC after graduation my plan was to only be here for 2 years, then move on to the next bustling city, two years there then on to the next. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Six years later, I’m still here, happily married and living the not-so-small town life. After a few “Working my way up” jobs, I finally feel like I’m in a job that could really take me places. I’ve by no means “made it”…but I’m working on it.
After yummy Ethiopian food with great friends last night, we started talking about the people that just pick up and move somewhere remote and live the great life not worrying about money, traffic, networking, dry cleaning, etc. I mean, who wouldn’t want to live on a boat in crystal clear water, where it’s always sunny and everyone is always smiling? But what does it take to do that? It’s simple…balls! I lack the cajones to just drop everything and move the husband, the schmoopy and the wardrobe to St. Thomas to teach SCUBA to a whole different breed of tourists, the likes that DC has never seen. But wouldn’t it be grand if we did? Think about it. A tan that won’t quit, a shoe collection that consists of nothing but flip flops and open-toed cuteness, sun dresses, no makeup, well, a little makeup…sigh…
But I bring myself back to reality. I love my job, I love my friends and when it’s not snowing in March, seven days after 80 degree weather, I love DC. I could do without the fanny pack loving tourists that don’t understand that the red hand means DON’T WALK. I could go the rest of my life without getting stuck behind a tour bus that takes up three lanes to make a right turn or cab drivers that drive a crawling pace hoping to score a group of people they can drive to the other side of the street by first driving to the other side of the city, because unsuspecting tourists don’t know any better. But I love this city. I love that Bryce (husband) and I can have home-made Southern Indian food with my family on Saturday, Thai with friends on Sunday afternoon and the aforementioned Ethiopian food Sunday evening…a veritable UN of eats!
So on that note, I’ll willinging pay my parking ticket from my coffee run this morning and thank the DC Government for keeping me on the parking straight and narrow.