B*tchslapped
A couple of months ago I wrote about my potato-heart. Today, I find my world under construction.
I went to my old building earlier to pick up the last bins from my storage locker and when I went upstairs to my old apartment, I was shocked by what awaited me inside. Total demolition. I went to my bedroom and found the floor covered in gyp rock. The ceiling was non-existant, in fact I could see into the upstairs apartment, and the walls were exposed concrete and wood slats. I snapped a picture of my feet, and the more I look at it, the more I find it summarizes my current life experience.
I don't move into my actual apartment for another week. All this excitement over moving, a fresh start, and it keeps getting delayed. I'm living out of boxes while my future home is being renovated upstairs and my old place is being ripped apart. You know what the kicker is though, throughout all of this?
It's my fault.
I wanted something so badly that I put giant blinders on and irresponsibly plowed through anything standing in my way. Corrupt landlord? Check. Overpaying Hydro? Check. Did my social life suffer? Yes. Has it been messy? Like Hell. Will it be worth it? You're damn right.
I'm taken back to the time I was sitting across from a med student, who was trying to assess my anxiety with a strange tactic - repeating the question, "where do you actually and physically feel your anger?" Not being satisfied with my dozen attempts to reply, I pictured myself tackling this poor doctor-to-be and giving her a slapping of a lifetime. Well that's kind of what I feel like I am doing to my life, while it slaps me right back.
Life is a giant slapfest of late, but I'm not backing down. There's a determination in me that I haven't felt before. As the transition into a stable home environment continues, I feel a new me emerging from the dust. Gyp rock or boxes, there's a new Katie in formation, and I think I like her. I like her a lot.
Plants and Animals,
Me.
I went to my old building earlier to pick up the last bins from my storage locker and when I went upstairs to my old apartment, I was shocked by what awaited me inside. Total demolition. I went to my bedroom and found the floor covered in gyp rock. The ceiling was non-existant, in fact I could see into the upstairs apartment, and the walls were exposed concrete and wood slats. I snapped a picture of my feet, and the more I look at it, the more I find it summarizes my current life experience.
I don't move into my actual apartment for another week. All this excitement over moving, a fresh start, and it keeps getting delayed. I'm living out of boxes while my future home is being renovated upstairs and my old place is being ripped apart. You know what the kicker is though, throughout all of this?
It's my fault.
I wanted something so badly that I put giant blinders on and irresponsibly plowed through anything standing in my way. Corrupt landlord? Check. Overpaying Hydro? Check. Did my social life suffer? Yes. Has it been messy? Like Hell. Will it be worth it? You're damn right.
I'm taken back to the time I was sitting across from a med student, who was trying to assess my anxiety with a strange tactic - repeating the question, "where do you actually and physically feel your anger?" Not being satisfied with my dozen attempts to reply, I pictured myself tackling this poor doctor-to-be and giving her a slapping of a lifetime. Well that's kind of what I feel like I am doing to my life, while it slaps me right back.
Life is a giant slapfest of late, but I'm not backing down. There's a determination in me that I haven't felt before. As the transition into a stable home environment continues, I feel a new me emerging from the dust. Gyp rock or boxes, there's a new Katie in formation, and I think I like her. I like her a lot.
Plants and Animals,
Me.
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