This blog post should be titled 'How To Do Things All Wrong' by EVILFLU, expert of all wrong doing-ness, majesty in the highest of screwing up-ness - or something like that.
A few weeks ago my bathroom sink grew (developed?) a hole in it.
This sink had a small rust spot when I moved in. I remember reassuring the building manager that I was fine with it. I was just excited to start out fresh in a new place, up in my Princess Sky Castle (or that's what I call it anyway - sounds much nicer than my apartment that is way too far from the ground).
As the years passed, that rust spot grew. It was actually quite symbolic. As I found my emotions spiraling more and more out of control, that little spot grew. It irritated me to no end. I'm not a complainer though, sometimes we have to live with the little rust spots of life after all. It gives us character (and maybe botulism?).
At one point I covered the rust spot with special porcelain paint. It only hid my rust temporarily though and soon little patches of rust came through the little provisional mask. (I really am talking about a rust spot here...I swear!).
The rust came back in full force. As I was wiping my sink during my "oh shit someone is coming over" routines, the porcelain gave way and crumbled - and it was time for a change.
I arranged to have the hole removed from my life for once and for all. A little relief was all I asked for.
but a week went by...
and the hole continued to crumble.
and then I lost it.
I had been holding it all in for far too long. The annoying neighbours, the mail thief, the burglars, and now the feeling that nobody cared.
I work hard. Every single day I get up out of bed even though my brain screams to stay under the covers all day and feel sorry for myself. We don't have much, but what we do have I am thankful for and once in a while we are able to get some cool shit - and I am really thankful for that - but for some reason not having someone recognize that I was tired and that I deserved attention really made me grow some proverbial balls.
I gave notice to move out of my home.
without having another home to move in to.
I am terrified knowing that in just under two months we will no longer call this little apartment home.
I am relieved to know that I will not have to stare at that growing hole in my sink.
I am proud of myself for taking this step.
but we still don't have a home.
and it scares the crazy outta me to not have a home. To have people go through my home and getting their shit all together, while I am still here shopping around - for places that are beyond my means.
The problem is I want to stay in the same area. I want my son to have a backyard to play in. I want to have a home to be proud of. I want to be able to open my door and be outside. I miss raking leaves and taking out the garbage. I miss all the little things that were a part of my life when I was happy. Even if it was raking leaves, I was happy. I may not have been able to see it at the time, but looking back, I was happy. I had routine. We went outside together. It was nice.
I have seen so many apartments. Only one has been perfect but I really don't want to describe it until I have a key safe in my anxious little paws (biggest bathtub I have ever seen....). I can see us living there on that quiet little street. EVILBOY growing up with his friends and never having to change schools. Something I dream of. Something I never had.
...and here I am getting excited over a dream again. I am off to adopt the mentality that if it happens it happens, and if not it will not be the end of the world. Even if we end up in a cookie-cutter concrete nightmare, we can still be happy. Where you live shouldn't define you.
The biggest bathtub in the whole wide world certainly does scream happy though...
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Hello..this is my blog. I bought this fancy theme and I don't know what to write here just yet. Maybe one day remind me I have to write something inspiring here?