I have been in in the city of New York for five months now.

In that time, I spent three months seeking my next role, obtaining that role and then slowly setting up life here.

Two days ago I got my own apartment in Brooklyn, a walk-up. This is the term used for no elevator but flights of stairs. I love my little new home. I have a mattress on the floor and an old bed side cabinet I found on the side of the road from the 1930s. There was a pack of condoms in the drawer when I found it. I jumped on Amazon and bought with same day delivery a Dr Who shower curtain because my old house mate and best buddy refused to let me have one in my home in Melbourne. Priorities hey. Now to find a couch (not from the street though).

It is warm and humid. I have always raved about how I could live in this sort of weather everyday. Not in NYC, it is like walking around the mouth of a homeless person. Dripping by the time I get to work after travelling the subway.

I now work in an office cubicle on 10th floor in Midtown Manhattan. 18 months ago, if you told me this I would not have believed you. It is like I am living some dude’s life In a film before some giant wave hits the building. I have no idea what this city may bring, but as a wise woman told me last week , “if you are open to NYC, NYC will open to you.”

Well NYC, I am open.