There are so many characteristically New York things that were just difficult — you know the elements of NYC life that so many people find exhilarating, endearing, worth it? They just pissed me off every day. The fucking subways. The way it takes you 45 minutes to go 2 miles. Bumping elbows with the people at the table next to you while you’re out for dinner, sipping a $7 beer. The smells, the blisters, the sweat, the ruined shoes, the act of hesitating in the grocery store because you know that if you load your basket with one more item, then your walk home will become finger-slicing unbearable instead of achey-shoulder unpleasant. Ivy League bankers. Creepers making comments on the street. Teensy bodegas with dusty items on the shelves. The necessity of constantly reminding yourself that you’re doing alright; that everyone else can touch their kitchen counter from their couch, too.

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jennabee’s fairly accurate portrayl of (some of) New York (via lizlemon)

I love this city, I honestly love it.

But I can see how it can get you down.

Just now I hit my head on the towel rack while sitting on the toilet. The pain was only exacerbated by the fact that my bathroom is so fucking small I can hit my head on the towel rack while sitting on the toilet.