I read online how you could go to Times Square and write down a wish for the new year on a piece of confetti that would be released at midnight over the ridiculous penned-in crowd watching the ball drop. That’s kind of cool, I thought. So, the day before New Year’s Eve, I went to Times Square.
Which, if you know anything about NYC, you know was a mistake. Luckily, the tourists wandering around the intersections were moving so slowly–more slowly than on a typical Tuesday evening, if you can believe it–that it was actually slightly easier to navigate around them, since I was the only human moving at people-speed.
But it was still mostly a nightmare. Especially when I discovered that the location where allegedly you could write down your wish was hidden. Or invisible. Or nonexistent. I’m still not sure which because after going back and forth across the same section of the sardine can disguised as a tourist attraction surrounding Broadway for a half hour in the 30 degree air, I finally asked a police officer where it was and he had no idea either.
So I left, extremely frustrated with having willingly gone to Times Square for absolutely nothing.
Not nothing, though, in the end, because my experience did give me 7 extra points in the “become a calmer person who doesn’t view minor setbacks as major tragedies” game I’ve been playing for a while.
Yesterday I typed my wish into the virtual wishing wall online that promised to be transferred to the real confetti, though as gullible as I am, even I didn’t think it would actually happen.
If it did though, then one of those tourists may have found a piece of paper stuck in their hood or fallen at their feet with the words, Live more; worry less. I wrote it for myself, but if you ever find yourself in Times Square, you’d do well to follow that advice, I think. Or if you just find yourself on earth.