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an inauspicious beginning to what I had hoped would be a better month
This morning I was awakened by the sound of loud, persistent knocking at my apartment door. My first thought was that it might be my sister, so I rolled over and pulled on a shirt, but then the fog in my head lifted just enough for me to realize that it was Sunday and my sister was in Toronto today. Then I remembered that it was the first of the month, and decided the person at the door was probably my landlord, so I whispered "rabbit, rabbit" and rolled back over and held a pillow over my head to muffle the knocking.
An hour or two later I got up, made coffee, discovered that I had left the balcony doors wide open all night, got ready to leave and then spent an hour looking for my keys. I haven't lost my keys in ages, because I have forced myself to learn to always leave them on the hook next to the door. But this morning, they weren't there. I searched everywhere I could think of, multiple times, and eventually decided to just use the spare set and worry about them later, when I opened the door and found my keys, dangling from the keyhole of my apartment door, where I had apparently left them the night before.
I felt like such an asshole. While I was lying in bed that morning muttering "I already paid you for this month, motherfucker, let me sleep!" my landlord -- or whoever was at the door, trying to help me out -- was probably thinking about how I have turned out to be the most obnoxious tenant ever, in the whole history of fiefdom. Just answer, for Christ's sake. We know that you are home: your keys are in
the goddamn door.
Sweet fuck, I am so incompetent I should not be allowed to live without supervision.
The problem is, I already worry too much, and this is not going to help. Actually the real problem is that I worry too much, but not about practical things like whether I left my keys in the door or the stove on -- which I have also done in the past -- but about things I can do nothing about, like whether Bush will be re-elected or why Phil
doesn't understand that sometimes it is better not to know.
The other problem is that growing up, we never locked anything, and it's hard to get worked up about something when you were raised not to think twice about it.
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