I’m the type of person who strategically decides how she’s going to eat a meal, so the last bite is fucking perfect. Honestly, every bite is pretty much perfect, I make calories count. Thats how I do.

Anyways…

I’ve officially decided how much longer I’ve given myself in NY.

(Truth. Swear. I’ve been sleeping on this decision for months. I've thought about it before I go to bed and when I wake up the idea still sounds right. I've repeated this process about three dozen times. So I know... This is right.)

Its not soon enough for everyone back on the Best Coast, and its way too soon for everyone I’ve connected with over here on the Beast. One side guilts the hell out of me for leaving, the other has begun its fight to keep me here. People give me grief all the time, but you know what?

It’s not up to you, but thank you for growing this attached to me. HAHA. I kid, but it warms my heart.

In result, I am treating life in NYC as if its a meal. By knowing my exact timeline I am savoring the hell out of it. I am a serial planner, this is engrained into my DNA. I have silently begun checking items of my NY bucket list, I am planning in and out of town weekend excursions while I reside on the Eastern Seaboard, and I am making sure the time I spend here is grade A-top-notch-QUALITY.

I will make it count until I’m on that one-way flight back to SFO. Trust.

But when is that, you ask? I’m not saying until I purchase that ticket. ;-)