I know that everyone has this experience many times in their lives.  It's the "maybe" thought, sometimes on little things, often on major things, but always with hindsight Monday morning quarterbacking.  For the little maybes, I could have picked a different bus, a different seat, a different subway transfer, met someone in a different circumstance. It's the day to day questions that are minor so you just take what happened and move along.  It's the Missed Connections on Craigslist.

For the more serious side, it's about what if I had chosen another, more lucrative career, what if I hadn't negotiated a deal on this apartment and paid another broker fee, what if I hadn't taken a giant leap of faith when I traded a permanent position for a temporary one that luckily turned permanent. Who would I be and where would I be if I had chosen differently?  I think we all contemplate these issues, consciously or subconsciously, and it does affect our daily life, and definitely emphasizes the effects of our major decisions in particular.

I try not to be paralyzed by the maybes, particularly since there have been more of them in the past five years than I ever imagined. Some days and weeks are better than others in terms of how heavily it can weigh on my mind, but I have a core of faith that while my decisions haven't always been the best, I've made the best out of my decisions in most ways.  I've thought about this a lot lately in terms of career path, relationships, what I've achieved in my life, and most of all, planning for the future.

The rub is that I'm tired of certain decisions being made for me in both my personal and work life, and also for allowing that to occur.  Some people think they're doing me a favor by drawing my path as they see it should be in their eyes.  Sometimes it's a way of asserting their own lack of control over other situations by controlling my choices.  Sometimes it's malicious as they try to sabotage the work where I have made my reputation. And sometimes I let them, more often now than ten or even five years ago, through sheer exhaustion of facing maybes that I should have owned and at least weighed in on the outcome. More and more I have ceded what should be my power on decisions that affect me to fate or outside factors instead of asserting myself.

I'm not saying I'm suddenly going to go all girl power and swing 180 degrees trying to take control over every little thing in my life.  Not only do I not have the energy for that, but that can be equally, if not more damaging, to your reputation and achievements. You don't want to be known as the aggressive bitch that can't play well with others and is so stubborn that no outside input is allowed or acknowledged.

I suppose I'm thinking about this more because as I've grown older, I react less on instinct and more on experience.  Normally people mellow as they age, so it's not unexpected that I would look at my life as a continuum instead of narrowing in on the current dilemma to the exclusion of other factors and consequences. But I'm wondering if I've let too much happen without my input, and how to improve that without turning it into a power struggle, both at work and in my personal life.  It's a hard skill to manage, and I've never perfected it.

This "maybe" is an important one. I need to find a better balance and make sure I'm not just background noise in events that matter to me. I deserve the right to speak up for myself whether it will make a difference or not, or on the other side, when I need to challenge the fact that I'm being taken advantage of.  I've let others override or hurt me in the past, and have tried to address it, but it's time to focus on this again. I've always tried to pick and choose my battles, but I think it's time to revitalize what's worth fighting for.  Someday I might get that delicate balance right.

I happened to be shelving some of my loose books today and ran across this one I bought in 2004, The Complete Idiot's Guide to Personal Finance in Your 20's and 30's.  I had plans then. Reading that book, even though it acknowledged that basically the recession of 2000-2002 screwed things up for my generation, I thought that I can work with the new paradigm and nothing is necessarily forbidden given the circumstances. I've adjusted, and adopted many of the recommendations by circumstance, nature, and  opportunities presented.

 While some things have not held up over time in terms of banking, regulations, saving rates, and tax implications, it still has a lot of good points, just not ones that most people acknowledge in today's world.  Some perks exist, yes, and there are still substantial homeowners' credits and many ways to save, eliminate credit card debt, and prioritize purchases. However, there's still the reality of graduating to the world between 2001 and 2015, let alone during the height of the Great Recession when a lot of people went through a very rude awakening.

For me, even today, 10 years after graduate school, my dresser and nightstand have stood the test of time since they are old-school furniture that is solid wood. I literally grew up with these pieces in my home since I was old enough to have any furniture (2 years old?).  90% of what I own is handed-down or financed by my parents (yes, I'm ashamed of the financed, but they literally will not let me pay and/or were gifts, and they have the felicitous ability to shoulder that without hardship; trust me, I'm not complaining). My biggest apartment expense outside of rent has been my bed, which is 8 years old.

Sometimes I wonder, knowing how difficult it can be to afford a compromised life, and particularly dealing on shrinking salaries and inflated expectations, how the new generation will make sense of the world.  I have to give credit to this book, however, that also extolled the virtues of hand-me-downs, charity, gifts (although with bedbugs rampant this is a concern) and general economizing your living situation.  I literally pulled my TV stand off of a curb, and had it start to swayback under the weight of my old 27" CRT TV which probably weighed at least three times what my current HD one (parent purchase, full disclosure) did before I either had to choose between a new TV or get a new stand.  I wear clothes until clipping off the loose threads is an obvious, embarrassing necessity.

Some people are spenders, some savers by nature. Yet every once in a while it pays to look back to see if you've hit the balance, or if there's a direction you should go in, treating yourself once in a while or pulling back on indulgences.  Today's world is certainly different than 2004, but some things never change. Don't carry debt if you can.  Take all your tax credits. And for me, most of all, take all of the hand-me-downs and free offerings while affording what you can on your own and saving the rest.

There is nothing to be ashamed of in that, in fact I'm proud that I've carried furniture 35+ years.  It hasn't broken, and until it does, it's more valuable than the IKEA dresser I bought 7 years ago.  Life lessons encapsulated in furniture :).

Still here, finally recovered from my cold, and working on an insane amount of backlog.  More later.

Living in New York you take a lot of things for granted, most of all the daily life on the streets and offices.  Yes, you do get jaded, yes, you learn the scams, the hustlers.  But you are one of the locals heading towards their destination despite any obstacles, and watching the tourists overwhelmed by what to us has become background noise in our minds and bodies.  No one can weave through crowds on the ground like a New Yorker by just peripherally adjusting your trajectory to what's most efficient around multiple obstacles (people/idiots with cell phones). Few have the panoramas from their office windows that rival those that we do.  On a more day-to-day level, most people in the suburbs have to drive to their impersonal grocery store and dry cleaners, instead of walking by and picking everything up on their way home from work, saving so much time and knowing your neighborhood stores on a more intimate level.

Having been born in New Jersey I've had quite a transition since moving to the city 9 years ago.  I often haven't truly appreciated just how lucky I am to have these moments of clarity of how things used to be in the suburbs versus the city lifestyle. As a transplant, I try to remind myself of what I've gained in experiencing this life in certain ways.  When I pass through Grand Central every morning I throw a passing glance at the starred ceiling and the central clock.  I'm realize that I'm privileged enough to get paid to be on a 30 Rock observation level in my daily workplace instead of paying for the view. Even in our MetroTech office, I can look out and see miles across Brooklyn and the Manhattan skyline from 17 stories up. I've always needed perspective, a vantage point that I can appreciate and re-frame my experiences to reconcile what I see with what I do and what I feel my opportunities are.

For now, I'm thinking of how grateful I am for these things.  I think that's a good place to be.

Today I got to do one of my favorite things, walk to Carl Schurz Park and bask in the sun on one of the benches lining the East River before stopping by the dog runs and seeing the first flowers of the spring.  When I moved to the Upper East Side, a friend living on 82nd St. clued me in to the existence of this park.  It really functions as an enclave separate from other smaller parks in the city (Madison Square, Union, etc) because of its significant size, but also because it requires a walk or train ride from Lexington all the way to East End, a trek most tourists will not do even if they knew about the place. Despite Gracie Mansion being there it just has never had the attention of other city parks, something that I'm very grateful for since it really is "our" park for the Upper East Side.

Central Park is wonderful in its own right, don't get me wrong. It certainly serves its purpose to tourists and residents alike, but given a choice I'll take Carl Schurz.  I know its paths intimately, every place to sun, to watch the various boats pass by on the river, the almost secret garden at the north end, and the central entrance with cherry trees and flowers blooming seasonally that creates a sculpted garden masterpiece.  I know every season, and have stood watching snow blanket the trees, the daffodils in spring, sunflowers opening in summer, and the leaves change and fall. This is where I stood the day that Sandy swept into town, watching the East River rising ominously close to the lighthouse on Roosevelt Island, feeling the rain strike like pinpricks and the gusts of wind that literally took my breath away.

It is "my" park, and I treasure the days I can spend feeling the breeze off of the water, the sun beating down or the beauty of the stark winter trees, knowing that I belong here.  This is my oasis.

Macy's Flower Show ends tomorrow, and although I've been sick all week with a bad cold (and am still sick), I'm determined to make it there, even though it usually means standing in line outside for at least 30 minutes.  Considering that it's supposed to be in the 50s and very windy, this is probably a stupid idea, but if it's choosing between a missed opportunity or taking the chance that things will work out, I've seen both sides.

My wonderful aunt gave both my sister and I a graduation gift of a trip anywhere in the world.  She chose Ireland's castles.  I chose a high energy trip through Madrid, Barcelona, Aix-en-Provence, Marseilles, Nice, Monaco, Florence, and Rome with stops in between at smaller towns and historic spots. Then the unexpected happened. In my senior year of college, I had to have emergency surgery for a strangulated hernia, pushed through finals even in pain while recovering, but unfortunately developed another hernia on the other side. This tour I had picked would be covered in 2 weeks with no more than 2 nights in any place, and I hadn't factored in the unexpected hernias, so I was very much weighing if I could physically withstand the pace. I was about 6 weeks out from the first surgery, and had the other active hernia (which does cause pain and discomfort even if it's not strangulated), which was scheduled to be operated on in August, but this tour was the at the end of June.

After some serious consideration, I went all in and embraced the tour; a decision I've never regretted.  Was I in pain? Absolutely.  At least I didn't have to handle my bags, so I didn't do further damage to the hernias, but sitting on a bus for 8 hours and then doing vigorous walking up and down cobblestone streets wasn't exactly comfortable.  However, it was the experience of a lifetime, including exposure to incredible history, art, different cultures, cathedrals, amazing views, and understanding how much of our American influence borrows heavily from the European prototype with our own twist added.  I returned exhausted and in pain, yet exhilarated about the fantastic experiences I was lucky enough to have, thanks to my aunt, and my persistence.

Adding to the certainty that I made the right choice by pushing myself to do it as scheduled, this was June-July of 2001. The Euro hadn't been rolled out yet in most countries so I experienced pesos, francs, and lira.  Most importantly, it was before September 11th.  When I was in Europe there was still that innocence that most nations had pre-9/11, and as an American tourist, I'm very sure this would have been a very different experience, if we managed to reschedule at all.

On the other side, since moving to New York there have many missed opportunities in terms of plays to be seen, events like the Flower Show or Big Apple BBQ, and many other occasions where I'm so caught up in my own life and work that one year I remember, while the next year it completely slips my mind. Concerts I haven't gone to even though I had tickets, because I was sick or just too tired to muster the strength after work. Dinners I've canceled, and weekends when instead of Central Park or Carl Schurz Park, I stay inside trying to get the maximum amount of sleep. 

Do I regret some of these decisions?  Absolutely, but other so-called missed opportunities preserved my health, my performance at my job, and the ability to cope in an intense city, with all that it entails. Going all out for two weeks on a European tour, but knowing that you can rest for a month at the end of it is very different from years of living at that insane pace.  If you're permanently somewhere like NYC, with endless possibilities each night, if I tried to experience everything the city has to offer I would burn out.  It also doesn't help (or might actually be a positive) that I'm 13 years older and as happens to most people as they age, I am more cautious and generally more self-aware that I'm not racing to a finish line, but staying the course.

The first time I saw the Flower Show was in 2013 when The Painted Garden was an Indian-Asian inspired exhibit, and it was phenomenal.  Last year I was too sick to even remember that it was happening. This year I may be ill, it might be a stupid decision, but I think I choose for this to not be a missed opportunity.