Strange. Going back to a familiar town yet the memories were as distant as the faces that showed up in last night's dream.
That monument statue in all its goldish brown glory, in the middle of a roundabout where it'd be the crowdest at a particular peak hours. Usually early morning or very late afternoon. That preschool that you used to spend hours under the looming trees by the sidewalk, waiting to pick up your sibling. That same neighborhood you used to live in that somehow felt a lot bigger back then. Like it grew along with you.
Picked up by a driver that I'd chosen online, he sounded nurturing with the deep, soft-spoken tone that he used. Maybe in his late 40s, or early 50s, I wasn't quite sure. Told him I was starving from the five hours train ride. Ended up in a KFC drive-thru despite how busy the road was. He said that some mayor would be marrying his son, meaning that there would be a potluck happening in town square tomorrow. All the villagers required to come. Party all day.
Well, it was nice to know that they'd throw a welcome party for me already. Giggles.
The elephant in the room. By that, it was the small miniature placed next to the house that I'd be renting for a month. The two smiling landlords, came out of the house, upon my arrival. From the wrinkles drew in on the guy's face whose hair seemed to be greyed for the most part. The shorter lady whose body was curvy and small shape for a face, stood next to him. Husband and wife, I assumed. They helped out taking the rest of my suitcases that I couldn't seem to hold with my two hands. Settled in my new place, with the blinding white lights that enveloped my sight as soon as I stepped in.
Days went on slowly when you'd gotten something to do, by that I meant work. Work that required going from and to the office because apparently this company had no acquaintances to the wonders that's "remote" work. That's okay, though, I found solace in walking to workplace, with my headphones glued to my ears playing whatever podcast I was currently listening. It was different. The town was different. Unlike in the previous one, where I'd have to fear getting bumped by cars as I walked in the non-existent sidewalk. Here was different. There actually was a sidewalk, well, it was more like a bicycle way, but same difference.
One thing I'd learned. I loved cooking. Creating or winging recipes I found online. Whatever stuff that I could be doing alongside finishing off a podcast. It became the highlight of the day, really. After a 9 to 5 job that had me sitting and lounging around all day, waiting to be bossed around by managers, it was like pulling off a bandaid. The things that made me want to rip my hair out, was relieved by the two soft-spoken ladies gushing over a TV show that ended decades ago. Didn't know if I really loved cooking or just loved the idea of finishing off a podcast.
I thought I got better of it. That's when the virus came. No, not that one. Definitely not.
Realizing that sitting in the same air-conditioner, confined space all day with other coworkers of all ages who coughed and sneezed as they pleased, would soon awaken my apparently weak immune. Shortly, I got sick. Twice. The horror. I'd rather I didn't, like work's supposed to be, they'd cut your salary for sick days and my number was still way too early to even be able to take sick days off. I couldn't afford it. On top of that, I was running low on finances. Add that to the other extra stuff I needed to set aside in case they needed "voluntary"input for when someone was giving birth, or just gave birth. I wasn't about to become the Ross Geller who turned down the masses.
Mind you, I was already spending too much on New Year's Eve. Fuck New Year's.
The two landlords weren't as grumpy as seen on screen. In fact, they were the opposite of that. So much so that they knew how a girl out on her own had very little, especially when it came to food, they shared some of theirs. Knocked on my door a lot of times, delivering their freshly made food on a plate, shoving them right down my throat. The only thing they pushed. I thought how convenient. No one could resist such hospitality, could they?
Then it all came crashing down. Reality. It hit like a yellow school bus, what Cady said. Of course the more comfortable a place was, the higher the rent would be. With my pay, I'd only survive on ramen on weekends if I wanted to keep living here. I had to find a new place. Which sucked every energy out of me when the online search didn't turn out like I wanted it to. Lower your expectations. Got a free trial to Amazon Prime, spent all week to make sure I put that to good use.
Here I thought I could save money by being here -- landlords and their free meals -- rice that I didn't need to worry about until after full income finally kicked in. Nights spent alone just wandering on the depth of life were a little less dreary knowing that you could just go out of your room and talk non sense to the landlords. Even if it was something as simple as 'What Did You Do Today'. Never used to bother me, but when it hits, it does so hard. And the day I moved out, was when it really started. Adulting.
Guess I was given an extra month to savor leftover from living at home, but now, as Taylor said, You're On Your Own, Kid.
