One of the reasons that I decided to move to New York when I did was that I felt I was ready to have some responsibility in my life. I partied my way through my twenties, and loved every moment, but was eager to have a regular schedule - to be able to go out any night of the week, have nice dinners, evenings at the bars without necessarily closing them.
New York, I imagined, offered the best of both worlds. The most variety in nine to five gigs, with the most choices in how to spend your evenings and weekends. I imagined how professional and together my new job would be. I mean, it probably is the corporate center of the world, isn't it? Only the most professional and together individuals could make it there.
After all, it's not personal, it's business.
Yeah, one week into my new corporate job shattered that illusion. People are people, and they are the same everywhere. They come with flaws and insecurities, and if you want to succeed you have to figure out how to work with them. I started my life in NYC working for a bitter overbearing control freak and a paranoid delegate everything wanna be mother figure. Balancing the two extremes was almost more than I could bear.
In life I pretty much tend to get along with everyone. I can genuinely say that 99% of people, after they meet me, say, "Wow, she is really great!" or "Rockstar is so much fun!" I really enjoy making people laugh and feel good about themselves, and they appreciate this.
I have met and worked with people who are the epitome of evil. They can be two faced liars who cannot wait to stab you in the back, and she have actually already tried to do so to me once or twice.
Strong words, I know. How can I enjoy knowing so many people but then meet one that completely turns me off? Simply because he or she knows my secret and how to use it against me.
Everything is personal.
Fortunately I believe in karma, and therefore will always take the high road. As boring as that may be. My liver can use the good vibes, it will need all the help it can get in the near future.
I just hope when the karma comes around it’s a nice banana cream pie and I am a witness. Not too much to ask, is it?
The History Of Yoga
1 year ago