Reading up on New York (there’s nothing else to do, it’s hot, I’m broke, etc) and seeing places or things mentioned in each article that I recognize. Post New York Depression is so real tonight. The sinkhole in the LES outside of Katz’s Delicatessen, Halal Guy, Duane Reade. 8 months is too long. Get me out of here.
Every moment of weakness, every workout I skip, every time I eat shitty food, is one day prolonging my progress of becoming hot enough to live in NYC. This is why I was doing bear crawls up a fucking hill at boot camp this morning at 6:30am.
I need to be hot. I have like 8-10 months to figure it out.