I’m having such a hard time adjusting to living here.
We live downtown in a town of about 30,000 people. There are always people walking around outside on my street. No privacy. People here aren’t nearly as friendly as the last community we lived in, which is a little more than an hour away.
It’s so noisy. My neighbors talk and yell all night long. They have barking dogs that are louder than my own barking dogs, and the most annoying cars ever. It seems like criteria for living here includes having a vehicle with no muffler, or a motorcycle, or both, and you must rev them up and speed around the block every hour on the hour, 24/7.
Speaking of every hour on the hour there are also bells. Oh my word I cannot stand these bells. Why do bells need to ring at 3 in the morning? NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR THREE RINGS OF BELLS AT 3 IN THE MORNING.
I do not want to know that it’s 3 a.m. I want to be asleep. My babies don’t want to know that it’s 3 a.m. either! Or 4, or 5, or even 6 for that matter.
There are trains too. Blaring, loud trains that make my storm windows rattle.
Why are roosters not allowed, yet every other noisy thing in the world is ok? Ironic.
I miss the solitude and privacy of living on a dead end gravel road. I miss the stars. I very badly miss my ducks and chickens. My yard here is small with no privacy, and under the melted snow there is a ton of trash and a thick layer of old fall leaves.
I feel like I can’t let the kids play outside alone here. There’s too much traffic, and strangers everywhere all the time. I feel like I need to stay inside with my curtains closed and my doors dead bolted.
Last night a drunk person came to my door at 10 p.m. and told me how he’d been on our street all day doing electrical and plumbing work, and how much he liked my dogs.
This is definitely not the place I wanted to raise my children. Fun quirky house, but…
We’re having severe storms tonight. I’m at least reassured by the fact that I live in a giant fortress with a stone lined cellar. Beats sitting out in the middle of that open field in an uninsulated cabin, huddled up in the living room listening to debris slam into the walls while the kids cry.
Small positive, right?
It’s just that there is no beauty here.
I can’t find it.
We went on a walk around the block and there was nothing. No spark.
Just a bunch of run down houses with rusted things in their yards, and random people who didn’t smile or wave like everyone in the last place I lived.
That’s what I like to do–find the beauty in All The Surroundings.
But for the first time in my life…I really don’t think it’s here to be found.
I can’t figure out what I’m doing here.