White Noise

As of late, I have had a lot of quiet moments. Maybe the tv is on, maybe I   read a blog or a text, but I am not there. The white noise has let me recuperate from what I can only define as a hellish start to the year. I am still adjusting at work, determining minute by minute what I am doing there, if I can do better, and, if I can, what my next steps should be. In doing a favor for a friend, I caught what in New York creates more scourge and stigma than AIDS…bed bugs. Not necessarily bed bugs. A bed bug. But where there is one, there could be hundreds. I still hadn’t settled into my apartment when my home became some kind of decrepit spaceship  Clear, shiny, plastic bubbles holding all I owned. Spending 14 hours of washing with break you mentally…not to mention financially. Thirty five cents equals only 10 minutes. Not to mention dry cleaning and days off work when I had no vacation planned.

I could go into the other 4 plagues of Egypt I have gone through since the new year, but that would banish the white noise for the night.

And I need the white noise. Because when it stops, my brain begins to scream–

I AM DONE.

With this life. With my 20s.  With New York. With people not picking up their dog shit. With aggressive panhandlers.  With an exorbitant cost of living. With not having a yard. With $15 cocktails and men who expect sex on first dates.

With the lack of white noise.

In 3 months I begin a new era of life.

And in less than 12 months, god-willing, it will be in a new place.

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