I dreamt of New York City last night.

A recurring problem in my young adult life is that I am rarely satisfied with the city in which I am living. This statement may lead you to presume that I have lived in many places; I haven’t. But I am ready to, and not just on a whim caused dissatisfaction.

Since making the decision to move on a month or so ago, my dreams have been full of voyages and travels. So at least my subconscious is on board. And my boyfriend. We are going to make the token Canadian pilgrimage to Australia to live on a beach, talk to people with accents and carry all our belongings around in backpacks. The plan is to suffer out the rest of the winter season in Toronto working two jobs apiece so we can hop on a plane in June or July. From there, who knows.

Who wants to watch my cat?