I updated my other blog. I’m past the point of caring if people know
New York Magazine has an article on the recession people seem to have forgotten–89. It dug deep and lasted a long time. Much of our economy had changed in the 80’s. The vibrancy I talk about had gone out. New York was in many ways remade by this recession and not for the better.
I’m hoping that this year equals 87 or much of 88 as it really didn’t hit New York until 89. Once it did it was horrible. I knew people who lost everything. I regret being scared to buy a coop as they became dirt cheap, but frankly I had stopped loving New York. I only bought as my mother was still alive and I couldn’t leave.
Read this article. It says what nobody has been saying, and has to be talked about.
People say they know what a renovation feels like. Unless you live in two and a half rooms and are having both of them worked on you have no idea.
For the past five weeks I was living in a war supply zone. No work. Just supplies. Silly me, I can’t put doorknobs in myself. I have lost my mojo.
It’s hard to hear that I have a rep as a cold person when in “real life” I feel so badly for people I let things go on and on and on. I did lose it this weekend, to my friends delight.
I only was taken seriously as I took all emotion out of my voice. I can’t believe I’m a person who used to manage huge projects. I have even more respect for my best girl friend, Lucia, for having been a girl contractor at a time when girls were girls. We still are in the bad sense.
Call me selfish but I don’t want to be the person who the New York housing market collapses on. People keep saying “you’ll get it back….” They seem to want me to design the frigging Taj Mahal–have to keep reminding them that I’m renovating to sell. That nobody knows what’s really going on in the housing market. The three apartments for sale in my building have been for sale for quite awhile.
I hear their problems. They don’t hear mine. I’m really losing it. Nobody but Lucia, Rafe and Bone have truly heard the depths of my despair and I thank them. Bone is very funny–it’s a job requirement for my friends–but he’s also very compassionate–and even answers my hysterical emails and texts. Gary Cooper meets Hemingway meets Seinfeld. Oy.
I can’t write seriously. My body feels as if I have a giant toothache and the nerves are exposed.
I came very close to asking to be signed into a mental hospital this weekend but I realized that would only delay the inevitable. That I had to get firm. And I know the reaction I would get when I asked:
I’m losing my mind over my renovation and move. You don’t understand. It’s worse than horrible.
Then I would hear their renovation horror stories, and they would ask why I don’t get a new contractor.
I like him. He’s a nice kid, with kid being the key word. He hurt himself last spring and spent the summer out of work. He needs a chance.
So yes it really hurts when people say I’m cold as they don’t know me.