Once you get what you want, you don’t want it.
The entire duration of my stay in my last apartment I longed to be free of it. Though the building was nice the neighborhood was awful. Sirens, motorcycles, fights, screams, breaking glass, and gunshots punctuated my phone calls with my mother. My proximity to the red-neck bar drove me nuts, adding to my insomniatic ramblings; I need at least 4 hours of sleep for coherent speech.
While I was in Lake City I was lulled to sleep by the sweet sounds of:
“Bitch, where’s my hat, you fucking stupid bitch!”
“Fuck you, asshole, fuck your hat.”
“Fucking cunt, something something unintelligible hat….”
“Well fuck you.”
“You don’t fucking come near me, or I’m gonna mess you up.”
“Fuck you. I’ll fuck you up.”
“Come here, asshole.”
“Fucking, asshole.”
“Where’s my fucking hat, fucker?”
In Green Lake I hear…. NOTHING. Occasionally a car passes and I can dimly hear the hum of the freeway, but primarily the only noises in my new place are coming from my incessant yacking and the TV or stereo. I have no urban lullaby to sleep to. Consequently, I am sleeping even less than usual, which is really quite ridiculous. In fact I was so exhausted last night that I actually considered putting on clothes and going all the way back to my old apartment. But I was too lazy to find pants.
Perhaps like the main character in the movie version of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, I should record the sounds of my old home and play them at night. Imagine my new neighbors’ confusion at the sounds of fat spiral-permed blondes being assaulted, men scuffling for no discernable reason, and my personal favorite, the randomly screaming woman, all pouring from my windows and traveling across the waters of my clean new pool.
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