Little things

Spring always seem to sneak up on you. Just when you're sure winter will never end, the clouds part, the skies clear, and you can almost hear a chorus of hallelujahs as the sun finally reappears.  Just as quickly, the city emerges from hibernation and the citizens of New York rush to fill the sidewalk tables and rooftop bars, eager to take advantage of every precious second of sunlight and warmth.  Ever since the temperatures started hitting 50 and above, I've had a bad case of spring fever.  Lately my mind keeps wandering from the oh-so-exciting world of excel to thoughts of finding the first Mr. Softee truck of the season or scheming about ways to make it to a rooftop bar before sunset.

I love spring for the sense of hope it brings. Hope for change, for growth, for new beginnings. I mean, if the crocuses can survive a winter buried in the frozen ground, there's hope for me too, right? Ok, so these aren't crocuses, but I couldn't resist posting a picture from the orchid show at the Botanical Gardens.

I need all the hope I can get right now. It's been a tough few months on the career front as I try to look for my next job. Rationally, I know I shouldn't be getting discouraged - I have a job, my network of friends and co-workers have been enormously helpful in pushing me forward, and I'm still early on in the process.  But let me tell you, it's quite a drag on morale to keep interviewing and hitting dead ends. And after you've sold your story for the umpteenth time, you start to wonder if maybe you don't really have that much to offer.

So I'm taking comfort in the little things. Like a weekend of 70 degree weather and free macarons from Bouchon Bakery (for Macaron Day, obviously). Macarons are the new cupcakes, didn't you know?

Like a day in the park with my friends, with lots of chances to hone my creepy paparazzi skills.

Like chocolate peanut butter pretzel frozen custard (the sweet & salty combo can't be beat) and delicious cheese fries from Shake Shack.  Word to the wise: the line moves fast, so don't be deterred if you see people spilling out the door of the UWS location.

Like plates piled high with veggies and meat, ready to be dunked into a seriously spicy Sichuan soup (like the 4 word alliteration there?). Admittedly, hotpot is a traditional winter meal, to be savored when it's bitterly cold outside and nothing sounds better than eating for 3 or 4 hours around a boiling pot of broth.  Let's call it the last vestige of winter and hope that hotpot will soon make way for barbecues and icy cold drinks by the pool.

I can think of many other things to be thankful for, both big and small. Like being at a dinner table with my sorority sisters and feeling so proud to be part of a group of such accomplished women.  Like a scoop of pear gelato from Sant Ambroeus that seems to embody the purest essence of the fruit. Like chatting for 3 hours straight with a girlfriend who has seen me through thick and thin and realizing how much we have grown up.  Like the aroma of fresh-baked bread wafting from my new breadmaker. And most importantly, realizing that I have people who believe in me and keep me standing when I'm ready to just give up and fall.

Like the hope at the bottom of Pandora's box, every year spring reminds us that despite the setbacks we may experience, there's a reason that we keep on trying. So I'm keeping my head up and looking forward to more blue skies and sunshine.