Earlier this year I was determined to move to Florida. After not working for nine months during the pandemic, I was petrified to stay. I was afraid that my real estate taxes would be raised. (They were.) I knew an assessment for my condo was looming. (It hit.) And the building behind mine was set to start a gut renovation. (Cue the symphony of jackhammers.) I thought the universe might be telling me something. Maybe I was done here? Maybe my time in the Big Apple had come to an end. The streets were empty. Crime was way up. A horrific number of restaurants and retailers had shuttered. Broadway was closed and all cultural centers were limping by. And financially, things for me looked bleak. I pictured what I’d pack and what I’d toss. I was sure a move was imminent.
And then through a curious twist of fate (and hard work) I started a new job 51 weeks after losing my last one. And although it was a permanent work from home position, and they were indifferent to my location, a great number of business contacts I’d be meeting regularly were based in New York City. (Cue the violins. Or in this case the band performing on the subway platform on tin cans and upside-down buckets. Remember them??) So it became awkward to have prospective buyers trapesing through my humble abode if I were to be on a Teams call. So I put off the move until the fall and pulled my City oasis off the market. And then I was fortunate enough to receive my first dose of the vaccine and my New York Tough came roaring back.
Five months into the job, I’m completely immersed in my day-to-day responsibilities, traveling practically on a weekly basis, and I am loving it! Recently I attended two fantastically productive conferences in Florida and the high heat and incredibly uncomfortable humidity completely flattened both my hair and my willingness to suffer through a Florida summer. Ever. But then I had a lively chat with a new contact who moved his family to St. Augustine 15 years ago. Ray raved about the beaches, and the weather, and the outdoor activities, and the quality of life, and the money he started saving the minute he claimed Florida as his permanent residence. Ooooo! That last one hurt. I let out a deep sigh. I couldn’t disagree with any of his reasons for moving to the Sunshine State. I included all of those and more when I made my list of why I should go!
But what he didn’t take into account was that I would be giving up New York City—for sure the most amazing habitat on planet Earth! And even though we aren’t fully “back” yet, the pulse of the City is returning. The traffic is certainly back. And the hum of activity is on the rise. Plus, we have seasons and we are a bit further away from the scorching equator.
So although I’m officially grounded for now in New York, and certainly beyond this fall, I don’t mind one bit. My roots are here. My life is here. My son is here. And as always, I absolutely LOVE New York. My beau Michael is talking about renting for three months in Florida during the winter just “to see.” And I can’t say that I wouldn’t welcome a little warm weather when my hometown is frozen over. But right now I’m looking forward to the cool fall temps that will be here before you can say, “The brilliant lights of Broadway!” So instead of packing, I think I’ll just water my roots here instead.
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