of the situation truly began to strike me. about the head. and about the anxietus plexus.
“so what happens if we decided to change our minds tomorrow?” i queried brian over the mouthpiece of my cream-coloured Sony ALL DIGITAL Answering System.
“we would lose $500. and they could sue us if they wanted,” he answered with unwitting wisdom.
after a pair of half-hearted attempts to deflect the injustice of such a hasty legal maneuver, i resigned myself to apathy for another 24 hours. just enough to get me through to the other side of too late. but not before i harassed brian endlessly with what-if’s that might make it okay to back out at the signing table.
what if i were to act out my ponderings and actually follow through with abandoning this so-called “civilized life”? would he be happy when i returned to medical city five months from now to give birth and instruct the nurses to contact him before i returned to the grime of nature?
he said “yes.”
he followed up with “i wouldn’t want my baby to live with a crazy lady.”
i informed him that was not quite the right answer.
we wrestled over verbs and adjectives in vain attempting to locate his true love for our fledgling son. but the battery on the mettle detector had run low. perhaps that is not a fair statement, or even an accurate one. but it is a lovely play on words that cannot be denied existence.
yesterday, upon exiting the parking lot of Republic Title, i took a left on sale street. it somehow seemed appropriate. and then another left on dickason, deciding this turn on my current map of life must represent my battles with insurance.
a couple of hours later, brian and i decided to “celebrate” by dining at mango. we officially began moving into the new place immediately after by carrying two of my boxes in. there, with the gloom of night hanging everywhere, i began to have my mood swing which i thought might not come until my first night spent there.
i normally have a hard time moving and saying good-bye to a place. it was me and i was it. but this is going to be different. i really love living where i live now. in four years, i’ve never once taken for granted pulling up to the curb and punching in the code and entering through the front doors and walking down the long, wide hall to my door. i’m always surprised i live here. even though i loathe the building management and the too-high rent and even though my place is far too small, i still love living in an old building with 16 foot ceilings and pipes snaking everywhere and an 85 year old window that’s almost as large as my “living room” and a bathroom that’s almost as large as my “living room” and a floor that reminds me of a garage and stepping across the plastic covering the hole in the main corridor containing the fossil of an ancient bird and being able to step out the front door and just start walking through a neighborhood with shops and restaurants and bars and coffee houses.
driving 10 minutes to get here is not the same. no matter how many people reiterate it.
while we were there, last night, everything felt pallid and shut away from the world. the ceilings were too low and what i had previously described as an open and flowing floorplan was all of a sudden closing in on me. in my mind, i had made the rooms larger and had laid them out a little better. now i couldn’t fathom where a dining table would go should we ever manage the money to have one.
there are cracks in the bathroom tile and an ugly, dangling light fixture and painted over switch plates. the doorbells still don’t work. there are no corners in rooms where i thought there were corners in rooms. there are no blinds on the windows in each of the living rooms. the sliding glass door facing the parking lot doesn’t have an exterior lock. the two sets of light switches have to be synced a certain way to turn on the too garish track lights. the kitchen drawers don’t have smooth runners. the shower head is too low. the walk-in closet wanted to eat me alive.
all minor things, i know. very minor things that don’t even matter. but all of a sudden i just wanted to scream at the top of my lungs: “i hate this place! i fucking hate it! i don’t want to be here! i’ve changed my mind! i can’t do this! don’t make me leave!”
but that’s hardly fair to brian and i tried to find room in my chest to breathe and suck up the anxiety and sadness and tears instead. just not very well. i knew it was supposed to be a happy day and i was ruining it, but i just couldn’t help it. and the farther south on 75 i drove and the closer i got to my loft driving through deep ellum, the more upset i became.
i crawled into bed and began reading feeling far away from where i had been and like i had woken up from a bad dream. but once brian crawled in with me and i ran my eyes over the textures in the ceiling and the components of the “kitchen”, i couldn’t hold it in. so i cried all over him and what should have been a good and happy night. and he took it. and he didn’t complain. and he didn’t become angry with me. and he told me it’s going to be alright and we’re going to have fun.
the next month is going to be really hard and is just going to suck all around, but maybe if i can find an emotional loophole into pragmatism, i might have a half a hope of battling my angst and my sadness and my nature of sentimentality and my pregnant lady hormones.
my god this turned into one whiny, fucking post. which reminds me that i have seen time after time in the last week various people using variations on the word “whinge”. which i’m pretty certain i never see.