I've been cleaning out my list of posts in which I wrote down a few lines and then quickly abandoned them. The first of these was on the third day of my internship. I wrote:
"Never having been a big fish in the first place, I feel like the smallest of the tad poles in a Great Lake. But you have to start somewhere, right?"
It's gradually diminishing, but each day as I make my way to work I still have to jump over that feeling of being frighteningly small and insignificant. But I think that comes with the territory of climbing out on a limb.
I love where I am. I love children's publishing. I love being around books and seeing the gears and cogs behind children's literature. I've studied the writing process but the publishing process is a whole different, complicated, fantastic world.
Working in New York City is invigorating. Walking around the city during my lunch break or after work can be difficult and confusing, but the more places I go the more confident I feel. I've been able to give people directions on the streets and in the subway. I finally know what people are talking about when they say "uptown" "downtown" and "midtown" (it is much more complicated than you would think). I've tried Natalie Holbrook's Top 2 chocolate chip cookie recommendations (milestone!). City Bakery's was chewy goodness but if you only had time for one then head straight for Levain's because it is a whole new cookie experience and actually worth the $4. Also, I do not recommend trying to explain spending $4 on a cookie to your husband. Choose your battles.
One of the many things I've learned is why most working women in NYC carry two bags. It confused me at first--aren't New Yorkers efficient with their space? How much do they really need to bring to and from work each day? And then my feet literally oozed with pain because I wore (very short) heels to work. I thought, okay, they bring their heels in an extra bag to put on at work, I totally get it. But I could fit my heels in my purse and I was carrying 3 books, a planner, a wallet, a notebook and my lunch. Finally, I noticed the labels. Then it all made sense. You put your wallet and cell phone in your Prada and everything else in a canvas bag. Aha! This was definitely one of those "I'm not in Utah anymore..." moments.