My fulfilling life. There I’ve said it three times all in a row without interruption. I decided this would be the next logical post since it seems that this topic has been in my last few posts in some shape or form.
After reminiscing about the Hilda street adventures, I decided it was fitting to go back and just see how fulfilling this life of mine has been, using the places I’ve spend more then 10 consecutive nights sleeping as a guide (I may not get through all of it in one post, hence the part 1 haha)
So let’s start with college. I moved a total of 7 times in 3 years, not counting the summers I spent at home. That means on average during each school year I moved a total of 2.3 times a year. Let’s just summarize, I moved 6 times the first year, once the second and none the third. It’s safe to say I was having a little trouble finding a suitable place to call home away from home.
The place I stayed for a year and a half was a nice basement apartment with a single mom and her son on the first floor. Every so often I would be serenaded with boyfriend noises from yelling and screaming to what I can only imagine was maniacal love-making – I am not sure how much love was in the making, but anyhow.
I didn’t live in this basement alone, no I had lots of friends. They were small, black and they would frequently frighten me. Raise your hands if you have ever lived amongst an infestation of carpenter ants?! They are the freakiest and worse then cockroaches, believe me. At least cockroaches hide during the light and only appear in the dark, skittering away at the first sight of a human. Carpenter ants wanted to be friends, they would hang out day and night, darting across the floor and tickling my feet, legs, arms and face at all hours and sometimes even attempting to crawl into my nose – ewww right!?!
Peripheral vision is a handicap when living with these insects (they are insects aren’t they). It would be better to be completely blind and lacking in any sensory processes. I’d be sitting, minding my own business working on school work when out of the corner of my eye I’d see something dash across the room. In my minds eye this something was never merely a carpenter ant, it was a giant black, tail-less rat. I’d have major palpitations and when I’d look the creature in the eye, of course it was only a minuscule ant.
I would get so frustrated.
My frustration manifested itself in deep rage!
I’d grab the latest ant fighting product that I’d found at Walmart and dart after the little critter, dousing it in the inexplicable, foul smelling gunk. But these ants were immune. They’d turn their little heads, stick out their tongues and scurry off only to re-appear later good as new. It was infuriating.
Near then end of my year and a half stay, I was ready to be committed. I could hardly sleep or spend anytime indoors at the apartment. To release the stress, my safe haven became the 1 foot by 1 foot shower. I’d huddle in, close the door, turn on the water as hot as I could stand, crouch to the bottom, let the water roll off my back while crying a river of frustrated hot tears.
I was happy to say adieu to my digs after graduating. I try not to reminisce of those ‘good ‘ole days’ for slight fear that these physical little tormentors may somehow make it into my nightly dreams where there are no hot soothing showers!