Well, is me, anyway. “The unexamined life isn’t worth living.” Someone said this once, but I have no idea who it was. I agree, however. So I have been examining why I have been so down lately. Aside from the whole ‘the world is going to pot and my country has turned into a hate machine, and I had the a/c on for nine days straight, which is a new record for me.
So anyway, I spent several days at a friend’s home last week. Several lovely, lazy, peaceful, didn’t have to lift a finger, beautiful home in lovely setting in gorgeous part of Massachusetts days. Then I came home. To my little prison-box dump of an apartment which has never felt like home in the twelve years I’ve lived here. I realized, not for the first time, that I don’t go out for a lot of reasons, but partly it’s because I don’t like going into the dark, often smelly hallways. I don’t sleep well and night and wind up sleeping all day for a lot of reasons, but partly it’s because there is nothing and no one to get up for. Even for the cat, since they are nothing like dogs, who want attention. And walks. I spent almost all of my time reading, messing about on the computer, or occasionally watching something on my Roku. There are not a lot of reasons for that. Just one, really. Focusing on reading, computer, Roku means I don’t have to focus on where I live. I can shut out my little prison-box from my conscious awareness and not deal with the angst it causes me that I can never get it to feel like home, I can never even get it to any degree of pleasant to be in. Avoidance is my new middle name.
I’m stuck. I can’t think of any more ways to rearrange the furniture, I can’t redecorate, because there is too much I am physically unable to do, and money does NOT grow on trees, no matter how much I would like it to. Indoor trees, since I have no outside to call my own. Not even a balcony. There are very few apartments available in my area, and none I’ve seen on-line recently take pets, or are on a floor I can get to (Stairs R NOT Us. This building has an elevator.)
Then there’s the whole ‘rental assistance’ bugaboo. Lots of landlords don’t want to mess with that, because it means they have to actually fix things that don’t work, or not get paid a certain portion of the rent.
I’m open to suggestions, dear readers. I know you’re out there. Not just my friends and family, but other, anonymous and unknown to me personally readers. Help? Please? I need ideas.
As a reward, here is something that made me very happy: