Week two of my only splurge of 2009: working with a new trainer. This guy is kicking my butt, I have to say, but he is totally worth it. He is also putting me on the low-carb diet. I miss my Triscuits
Back to New York stuff:
One of my biggest lessons in moving to New York is the realization that many things that I previously thought I couldn't live without, I now don't miss at all.
The obvious example: My car.
Moving from the second biggest US Car-tropolis, Atlanta, the thought of giving up my car was nearly unbearable. I loved my zippy Volvo XC-90. I used it to go everywhere, including the treacherous 1.1 miles to work each day, or the one mile trek to...my gym. Once, I even drove it to the grocery store in my building at the bottom of the parking deck. (so sad)
At first, I thought I would try to keep the Volvo. Like every change New York imposes on you, that thought was quickly sacrificed to the reality of cost. Parking in my New York building costs a minimum of $700 a month, when available. I considered open lot parking (about $200/month), until I found out that the cheaper price came with a big string: the low prices quoted have restrictions on how many times a month you can remove your car (usually limited to five free removals, each additional one costing you $10). Street parking is always available, but the inevitable $225 parking tickets add up quickly. Add in insurance costs, and higher gas prices in the City, and just "having" a car would cost more than my monthly payments on the car itself.
I returned the leased car to Volvo, and moved to the City sans car.
Being very aware I sit on the world's greatest transit system, I have to say, I do not miss having a car. Not even when I get to drive cars during business trips do I wish I still had one. I love not having to buy gas, worry about insurance, or fret whether my car is "the car" of the moment. (I know, I know, Volvo XC-90...it wasn't).
It is so freeing.
So, big NYC lesson # 314: Anything you think you just cannot live without, you probably can.
Except those Triscuits. How I do miss 'em.
