It’s 5 am in the morning. For the second time in a row I am wide awake. Even though I only slept 4 hours. Maybe it’s the jetlag, maybe it’s the excitement.
The excitement to get up and get out even if its -5 degrees (true story). The excitement of the energy this city gives you. The energy to get up and do the things you always wanted to do but never did (if I had my sewing machine with me I would make an entire line of clothes, scarfs, ties…). The excitement of meeting new people. People who are all open and friendly. Like the NY’er I met in the plane and had dinner with later on. Or the guy behind the bar (even though that was because he wanted a big tip). The excitement of knowing you won’t see the entire city, that you won’t have tasted every cuisine they offer, that you won’t have met all the people you wanted to meet. The excitement of being on the subway to Brooklyn, while listening to Frank Sinatra and seeing the statue of Liberty shining like a diamond. The excitement of talking to a doorman that lets you enter a beautiful Upper East Side building. The excitement of the bagel with walnut and raisin cream cheese in the morning and the coffee that warms you up inside. The excitement of entering every Apple Store and counting the number of staff members before changing every background to a picture of yourself.
New York is the city of excitement. The excitement of being here. It’s time get up and put this excitement to good use.