Sometimes you return to New York energized, invigorated, rested and relaxed. Ready to take on the world, conquer the city, stay up all night dancing and discovering.
And sometimes you return to New York and it’s loud and fast and smelly and you feel quite simple like cuddling up in your bed. Suffice to say, I’m feeling the latter.
So this week, I’ve been a little indulgent. I’ve called my bed my office more than once. I’ve worn pajamas until 2 and drank Breakfast Tea well past breakfast time. I’m trying to be kind to myself about it, promising that’s it’s just for this week (whilst I’m adjust to the insane pace of city life). I also make myself a bargain: office in bed = you must go to yoga class. It clears my head a bit and it makes me feel far less guilty. Plus, it usually energizes me.
Letting yourself slow down, take a breath and catch up isn’t a bad thing. In a city like New York you really have to remind yourself of that. It feels so lazy, so indulgent. But some part of me knows this time is actually critical to all that time I spend cavorting around the city.
Back to bed I go friends.