I’ve been extremely frustrated lately. And it’s all coming back to one issue, too many people around.
The weather has been so nice lately which brings more people out and about (where were you people running the lake in the morning 2 mths ago, huh?) And I swear every day last week I was yelled at, or sneered at, or stuck in some large crowd where a few people with chips on their shoulder made it known they were having a bad day and everyone should accommodate that. And most of these people are whacks or crazies in some way. Berkeley and my one block walk to the office is known for the crazies. But I let it get to me. And by the week’s end I was exhausted. I was tempted to stay indoors on a 70 degree blue sky day in March just to avoid being around people (good thing I didn’t. my day-walker complexion thanked me for it.) But it has me asking myself what am I doing living in a place so urban when I have skin so thin that the crazy on the bike yelling at me for driving around him gets me shaky and teary-eyed.
A friend told me last week she’s moving to a small mountain town in Colorado and I was full of envy. I always tell ex-boy that my ideal house is the one from Sleeping with the Enemy. Not the mansion on the beach, the small one she moves into by herself that has neighboring apple trees and a small yard and small kitchen for baking pies. I love that house. I love the idea of a small town with a main street where if I want I can ride my bike everywhere or drive out of town to go hiking. When ex-boy and I lived in Walnut Creek, I used to ride my bike to work and to the farmer’s market on Sundays. But it wasn’t small town enough. Rich housewives still drove there SUVs everywhere and everyone walked around downtown just to be seen. I hated the attitude. So why do I live in Oakland where I more often than not hear my neighbors conversing through the thin walls or people yelling outside and every morning I walk by this odd halfway house/soup kitchen where everyone hangs outside in their slippers and overcoats and I hesitate to wonder if they’re wearing anything else?
It seemed obvious when we first moved here, but I admit it’s becoming more difficult to defend my decision to live here.