Apartment Thoughts

Day Four of apartment living.

What, exactly, does one use to clean a gym floor.

I kept thinking that my shoes were wet. Somehow. Because of the squeaking. But then I remembered that I live in a gymnasium.

Which honestly feels pretty appropriate for a pandemic.

But also, I’m getting my second vaccine today. So that basically means the pandemic is over.

But this floor.

How do I clean it?

Because coaches get real sensitive about they gym floors. They’ve got all these rules about the kinds of shoes you can wear on them and the activities you can engage in and shit. And I’ve always assumed it’s because they’re super fragile. The floors. Not the coaches.

Or maybe the coaches.

But am I allowed to wear heels in my apartment?

I probably don’t want to.

But sometimes I like to pretend I’m pretty. And put on pretty things.

Also. Like, this place is eerily quiet. Inside.

Outside it’s a constant flow of life.

The fuck are you people going at 2am?

But inside? Sometimes I feel like everyone has evacuated. For, like, a fire drill or whatever. And they didn’t tell me. And I’m gonna be the one to pretend die in the fake fire. While watching Grey’s Anatomy.

Which obviously plays on all of my trauma insecurities.

My dad asked if I’d me anymore of my neighbors.

No. Because they don’t exist. They’re not real.

And so we have windows. With blinds. That face into the hallway. The gymnasium. The gymnasium hallway. Whatever.

And everyone keeps their blinds closed. Always.

But I need to be forced into socialization. Or I’ll start searching for work at home jobs. And just hermit up inside this tiny apartment forever.

So I leave mine open.

In case some fabulous neighbor happens by. And wants to chat.

But also, I don’t like to wear pants. At home.

Or ever.

I only put them on outside for y’all’s benefit.

You’re welcome.

So then I either have to pretend to be a civilized human. And wear actual pants. In my own apartment. Like a freak.

Or close the blinds. And retreat back into hermitage. (I don’t actually know what that word means. But my phone suggested it. And my phone is usually smarter than me. Plus it sounds cool. And lonely.)

And. Ok. So the first time I met Rogue in real life. She was just coming off of apartment life where one of the maintenance guys was peeping on the residents. Like, watching. Or videoing. One resident, in particular. I think. And I remember thinking how…well, I mean…like, it would really hurt my heart if I weren’t that one resident. You know?

I mean, I don’t want people watching me. Without my knowledge.

But I’m a Leo, right?

If someone’s gonna get watched. It damn well better be me.

So, I kind of…I make sure to do all the things in as alluring a manner as possible. As is possible for me. Which is…probably not very alluring. We all know my alluring just ends up all awkward and uncomfortable.

But the point is. I try.

For creepy maintenance dude.

That is probably not actually watching me.

But he better not be watching anyone else, then, either.

Maybe I’ll just get some plants. To keep me company. And watch me. Whether they want to or not.

I’m probably responsible enough now to keep them alive. Right?

Maybe like some cacti? Those are hard to kill, right?

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