It was a bad day in a great city.
I'm living alone for the first time in my entire life in a city I've dreamed about since I was a little girl. Five months ago I lived in a tiny room with an amazing roommate in a city-I-never-dreamed-about-but-liked-anyway. In that city-I-never-dreamed-about-but-liked-anyway I had a band, friends, a crush on a neighbor to get over a longing for an ex, and a job at a record store. It was fine. It was typical. I was broke. I ate tacos. I drank beers outside. I wrote songs. I smoked joints. I had an apartment infested with roaches. They used to crawl on me in my sleep and I got in the habit of sleeping with a hammer so I could kill them. I don't normally kill things but I hated them. They had boundary issues and triggered grotesque feelings I had about the time I was a little girl staying on my grandparent's farm in Nebraska. Bugs were crawling all over me in my sleep but nobody believed me. Nobody heard me. The next evening my parents finally saw what I was talking about and my horrified mother had us sleep in the van. My dad didn't join us and fell back asleep in the house. Maybe he didn't hear her. I don't know what I hate more now. Bugs or not being heard. In this new bugs-crawling-all-over-me scenario, my roommate and I heard each other and dealt with it together. We used humor and bleach as a coping mechanism. Eventually I bought a bed frame and taped the bottom of the legs with double stick tape to deter anything from crawling on me in my sleep. It seemed to work. Looking back on the experience now, I was living in my own personal hell but I called it heaven for some reason. How could it be hell? It was the city of angels and there were so many lemon trees. When life gives you lemon trees, make lemonade.
I've never seen a bug in my new place. There are also no lemon trees on my street or crushes on any neighbors. I did recently have my first out of town visitor. We cried in every single room in my new apartment. I felt both accomplished for being at a place in life where I had so many different rooms to cry in while also feeling incredibly frustrated for being at a place in life with so much to cry about. I appreciated the company, nonetheless, but my eyes look so tired from the experience.
There were no bugs. There were no lemons. But I was heard.