Yeah sure the city has its perks. In Harrisburg alone I could rattle off a grocery list of fun things to do within a walking radius – walk the bridge to city island, watch a Senators’ game, bike along the river, grab a happy hour drink, try a new food joint every week, create a tour of all the new building murals… I think I’m getting the point across.
But what if I told you there’s one thing about living in Harrisburg that makes it the opposite of great.
I totally get it if you loathe the traffic on Front Street during rush hour – or hours if we’re being more matter of fact. But living in the city means I get to avoid every ounce of that misery by walking to work, so nope that’s not why.
If you told me to raise my hand if I’ve ever felt personally victimized by Broad Street Market for only being open selective days during the week, I’d raise my hand. But nope, that’s still not why.
I’m still dreaming of the day an ice cream shop opens up within a closer walking distance to me, but nope that’s not why either.
So here’s what makes living in Harrisburg not so great.
On any typical day I find myself wandering different side streets home as I admire, not lurk at, people’s front stoops. I’m half hoping to snag a good pic for Instagram and the other half of me imagines my reflection on the other side of the glass – it’s fun to ask yourself, “what would my life look like inside this home, on this street, with these neighbors.”
The proximity from the sidewalk to the front windows of houses is rather limited in a city setting. While privacy can often be a no-go, it’s what makes window dreaming so easy. It’s also what makes living in a city the actual worst.
When I imagine a “no good very bad day,” I imagine an endless pet shop of animals in cages where touch is always a thin sheet of glass away. Now put the pieces together and ask yourself if you could really handle this sort of day on your walk to and from work every. single. day.
The peeping faces of city pets peering through windows has me wishing I could say hi to every one of them fur real. Unfortunately, I think it’s frowned upon to ring someone’s doorbell for the sake of petting their animal. Trust me, I’ve considered it.
But c’mon, tell me a face like this wouldn’t have you begging the person you’re with to ring the doorbell for you so you don’t have to face the shame alone.
I mean it when I say I love you, Harrisburg. But apparently a lot of people who happen to have impeccable taste in pets love you too. Here’s to hoping my landlord becomes a part of that demographic and adjusts our leasing terms and conditions sooner rather than later.
Cherishburg 