New neighbors Andi and Hayden don't get off to the best start - and neither do their dogs. When the hostility between their pets, Bart and Rosie, leads to noisy barking, Andi and Hayden must solve their pet's tension or risk eviction from their apar...
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I don't like change, and I don't like unforeseen problems.
I had enough of that growing up.
After moving into my apartment, I wanted to spend the next week enjoying it, living in peaceful bliss with Bart as we got used to the place. I did not want to spend the first night re-sorting papers and sweeping dirt, and the next morning fighting with my annoyingly hot neighbor who caused everything.
It's not how it was supposed to be.
I rest an arm on the window of my car, rubbing my forehead as I drive to work. My eyes stay on the cars ahead as a green air freshener swings under the mirror. The light air conditioning blows the leaf in different directions, and with long breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth, the swirl of its minty air flows throughout my body in an attempt to relieve the tension holding my muscles captive.
The commute to work from my new place is only ten minutes, and I only have two of them left. I'm in knots, my body and my thoughts, and I need to be in the right headspace for work. Worrying about the chaos last night or this morning is only shooting myself in the foot.
I rub my thumb against the leather steering wheel as another warm exhale floats from my coffee-stained lips.
While the scenic roads parallel Lake Michigan, my thermos of black coffee, and the clean, minty air have helped soothe my uneasiness, the unease is far from gone.
When a traffic light turns red, I ease on the brakes and take the opportunity to glance out my window. I focus on the sparkling lake and lush green life. The water is still, with only small rolls of waves cascading across it, and with a sky void of clouds, the blue reflection displays vibrantly against the water.
I take it all in, and the reminder of the natural world, that giant whimsical world outside of myself, softens my shoulders. Natural beauty is the magic wand that rarely fails me when I need to relax. It's why my apartment's view is so important to me.
With another long exhale, I use the new softness coursing through my body to work through my thoughts.
I'll call a seamstress or someone to sew Bart's teddy back together, and he'll be okay. And then he'll grow out of this grudge against Rosie, and that'll be okay too. It'll all be okay. Everything will go back to normalcy.
Despite the stillness in my body, the reassurances do little to help since they're based on nothing but what I want to be true. That's the problem with being a realist. It's hard to calm yourself when the logic is stacked against you.
The car beside me moves, so I step on the gas and forgo the view of the lake—the one thing that was actually doing something to help. My attention is back on the paved road as I drive through town and toward work. My elbow stays on the car's windowsill as I turn downtown.
Cifia is a fairly large yet charming town I've fallen in love with the two years I've worked here. After completing my degree, this was the best entry-level job available, and I got it. The semi-tourist town borders Lake Michigan with beautiful lake views in summer and spring, blankets of snow in winter, and breathtaking warm colors for fall. While the colder months can be frigid, and the ice doesn't make for the easiest walks, nothing beats the natural beauty of all the seasons.
