All in the same week.
I've never lived in a suburb in my life. That isn't to say I've lived in a bustling urban area, either, since I grew up on a working farm. But I did move to the city to experience the city, so I resisted moving to a suburb as long as I possibly could, until I admitted we needed a lot more room for our zoo of animals and there was no way we could afford the space we needed in the city.
So here we are.
I go back and forth from being amazingly contented with suburban life to longing for the days when I was walking up four flights of stairs to get to my one-bedroom apartment with the subway rumbling and hari krishnas singing outside my apartment. It's not that I wish to be living the single life again - my husband is the best thing in my life - but this house-living thing is SO different from what my life looked like in my twenties.
I lived a block from Wrigley Field in Chicago for years, which is ironic considering how much I loathe professional sports. People look like they want to hit me when I tell them that despite my close proximity, I never once set foot inside that stadium. Nothing about that place appealed to me. Then why did I live there, you ask? Because it was just steps away from Boys Town (the gay district), and that DID appeal to me. It was always awake, alive, bustling, and happy. And for the most part, so was I.
The ugly truth that I don't want to admit to anyone, especially to myself, is that I don't have the energy to live that life anymore. Staying out until four in the morning every weekend was the norm back then. Now, just the thought makes me want to take a nap.
But then there're the changes in financial priorities, too. In my twenties, I spent my money on concerts, and lots of them. I spent my money on drinks, and lots of them. Now, I'm spending that money on things that had zero importance to me back then: car insurance, a dishwasher, a garage, a yard. Part of that is depressing, but so is the thought of sweating balls on a hot summer day while I stoop over a sink of scalding water to scour yet another baked-on lasagna.
It's all change, and it's all positive since it's all progress toward building the life that I want. It's just....sometimes I can't believe this is the life that I want. It's so different than what I ever wanted.
But I do. I want it.
|My new key to suburban life.|