I Love Livin' in the City

I think my perspective’s changed from a couple weeks ago. I love living here, and I don’t even really live here. I get up early and watch law lectures at Kent, then go to the library, then straight back home. But those moments in between: riding on the L (which should really be the “El”); going to the Mexican grocery store; riding Brian’s bike across Humboldt Park; catching snippets of the Blackhawks game; making eye contact with thousands of strangers. This is what life is meant to be for a young person (if I consider myself to be one).

When you look at the running theme of success, you’ll find the time tested strategy of delayed gratification. It’s essentially giving up something that feels good now for something that feels even better later. The most common illustrations of this concept are practicing an instrument to triumph at a recital, or studying for an exam and getting an A. My favorite example comes from waif model Kate Moss who said, “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels.” People use that quote as an example of everything that’s wrong with fashion models, but really, it’s an excellent paradigm of victory. Kate Moss loves the taste of deep dish pizza just as much as the next 21st century human, but she denies herself because the satisfaction of comfortably exposing her naked fat-free body to millions of strangers outweighs any short-term satisfaction that may come from a fleeting culinary delight. Kate Moss is the modern day worker ant in a world of morbidly obese grasshoppers.

When I was living in New York, having the time of my life, I bought into the delayed gratification ideology and decided to pack up and head north for law school. My reasoning at the time was that, while I would be giving up on all the amazing things that New York City has to offer a post-college man in his early 20s, I would be able to triumphantly return to the city in three years with an advanced professional degree and career prospects that would deliver far more satisfaction than a B.A. and a job stocking cheese. Now I’m not so sure I made the right decision.

It’s been three years, I have the degree, but I don’t have the job. In fact, I don’t think I really even have the prospects. I’m back in a large metropolitan city, which I like, but I can’t help but to think of all the good times I’ve missed out on. There’s no denying it, ages 23-26 are for cutting loose. No indiscretions from that period of time will be held against you, except for maybe murder, but even then, we’re all young at one point.

There’s no doubt gratification was properly delayed, but will it work out? So far, the answer is a qualified “no.” I see myself as being in the exact same spot, but down three years that I’ll never get back. But what I really want to say is I’m still glad I’m here. I’m glad I’m in a place where youth and possibilities run rampant. Of course I miss her, and the job search anxiety is palpable, but being here, with three years in the rearview mirror, I’m confident that this is where I belong. I know that this feels right. And I feel gratified.