No regrets though, that time was spent well. I found places and people that made my heart beat faster (just have a look at this blog ;-)
It took me only 2 weeks to realize that this apartment was the wrong place for me.
There are those long narrow hallways filled with various strange and unappetizing smells wafting out of the other units and into the hallway and my unit.
There are those neighbours upstairs herding their elephants on the ceiling over my head.
The neighbours on the sides with their compulsive disorder that involves slamming kitchen cupboards and their loud voices resonating through the walls.
There are many of the other owners that reply with just a blank stare when you say 'good morning'.
|What is the point? (not my pic)|
There is that brutal madhouse commute to North Vancouver that would turn me into one of these
And most important of all, there is the absence of my new bicycle, which I VERY QUICKLY transported to a safe location after discovering that someone had tried to steal it from within the canopy of the pick-up truck and came unbelievably close to taking off with it, but miraculously did not get the bike because of being disturbed.
Maybe it wasn't only me that noticed that the two weeks of living here have not seen a single blog post. Coincidence?
There is that expression of not tempting fate. I realize HOW LUCKY I was that the bike was still in the truck in the morning. Given all the other factors about the apartment, this was the final straw that decided it.
People live like this. They put up with this every day. They say that misery likes company but subjecting myself to the same misery does not make their lives any better. I realize how very fortunate I am (both being able to recognize the calamity and being able to escape from it), and I feel that I would be tempting fate by not exposing it and trying to escape from it.
Homel Ess, as of today: FORMER resident of Burnaby