When I left San Francisco to move to Seattle, I was very happy to be leaving many small annoyances behind. I was sick of hearing noise from very close neighbors through thin walls. I was sick of ambulance and fire truck sirens, and the F streetcar rumbling by on Market Street. I hated the cigarette smoke wafting into my apartment from a chain-smoking neighbor. I hated the construction on the empty derelict building across the street, too. Public transport was overcrowded and inefficient on the daily. Everything was just getting so stale.
It hit me yesterday that some of those very things I’d hoped to leave have followed me here to Seattle. I have a chain-smoking older woman who lives above me. This morning, I was sickened as the smoke floated into my bedroom through the open sliding glass door before 6am. Last night, my neighbor’s living room, which is right next to my bedroom wall, had loud sounds from the TV roaring past 11pm. There are no sirens or streetcars where I am now, and for that I am thankful. But to me, cigarette smoke and TV bass is worse…
There is a building across the street as well, undergoing construction on its façade, which filed for permits after my offer on the condo had been accepted, but before closing, and their permits don’t expire til August 2017! Construction next door for over a year – another inconvenience I’d left in San Francisco, hoping to leave behind forever. And it just so happened to begin right when I was securing my home! Not in the disclosure papers, so the sneaky little bastards managed to get this through without informing me. Maybe I would have backed out of the purchase if I’d known these would crop up!
But having these annoyances creep back into my life after hoping to be rid of them has me pissed off. I did not sleep well last night, and I’m just that little bit of grumpy about it. I’m up in arms and ready to write a damning, shaming nastygram to the smoking neighbor in the elevator for all to see about how to be considerate, and about how I don’t go outside her window after eating all the beans and fart up a nasty storm, polluting her air.
I’m trying to not act out and to just be cool, but it’s taking every ounce of strength I have this morning. Luckily, it’s Friday. My plans this weekend are to pick up a Zipcar, head over to Home Depot, and go ever further into debt as I select an accent wall paint color and painting supplies for my newly refinished sheet rock in the living room. I also will be enhancing my patio and indoor gardens by procuring some new plants, potting soil, and pots. These are fun little projects I enjoy, so I’m attempting to think about how great it’ll all look when it’s finished, and how I’ll pay off my credit cards in a couple of months and be back in the black again. Home ownership is not for the weary. There is always something to be done, and when one doesn’t have anyone else to whom to hand off the honey-do list, one ends up being the honey-do herself.
So I’ll try not to bite anyone’s head off today, or retaliate against inconsiderate neighbors, but I’m not making any promises.
“We boil at different degrees.” – Clint Eastwood