Stagnation = death. There's no way around it. The most basic definition of death is the complete cessation of movement. Stagnant water is a breeding ground for pestilence and disease. Stagnation is toxic to the soul. I'm more blocked than ever - not just in writing, but in life. I want to go out and do more. I want to get involved in activism again. I want to have stimulating conversations. I want to write. Times like this, I often don't even know where to begin.
Most people would have a hard time understanding my dissatisfaction with my current living arrangement. I stay with my grandfather rent-free, have my own room, and I'm only 2 minutes away from the L train. While it might look good on the surface, it's proving ever more toxic to me. Take my room as an example. It's arranged as to give the most cramped feeling you can have and the walls are littered with pointless, ugly adornments. It's also where the phone is located and the only means of getting to the bathroom. That means at any given moment I have to be prepared to give up what little semblance of privacy I have, which means I have no privacy. There are a host of other things as well:
- He makes me breakfast and dinner. Everyone who's lived with me knows I don't eat breakfast. I keep somewhat unique hours and prefer to eat a little throughout the day. I'm not the least bit interested in a regimented meal schedule.
- Even if I weren't averse to a regimented meal schedule, I couldn't eat what he cooks. He's reverted to cooking everything in lard. LARD! Recycled lard. He finds the concept of vegetarianism/veganism completely impossible to comprehend.
- I've asked him not to make me food for days on end. I've even tried saying that I just ate and that I'm full. Five minutes later there's something dead on my plate with greasy orange slime starting to puddle under it.
- Refusing to eat is met with nonstop insistence. I feel like a little kid being force fed, or a pagan sacrifice that's being fattened before being led to the altar. For the sake of keeping the peace, I've been tossing it.
- I have no internet access in the house. Well, there's one unprotected access point that I have to go through voodoo rain dances akin to adjusting rabbit ears to find a signal, but when it takes over an hour to just read two emails I hardly count it as being there at all.
- Time Warner only allows one account per household, so I asked if I could add internet to his service. He's worried that Medicare will find out about this $30 a month charge (that I would be paying him for) and conclude that he has been secretly running a drug empire from his rent-stabilized apartment and has a mountainous stash of money under his mattress (or in his freezer), and take away the benefits he has to "pay down" his income $100 a month for.
- He has an unwavering faith in his friend and former neighbor. When he lost his prescription, I told him to just call the doctor and have it phoned in to the pharmacy. She told him he had to go back to the doctor to get a new one. He wasted time and money (the doctor charged for the extra visit just to get a prescription reissued) because of this blind faith in her and apparent lack of faith in me.
- Last on this little laundry list, though not the last item by far: I can't come and go as I please.
I don't mean to sound like an ungrateful jerk. I appreciate him letting me stay in his apartment while I saved up and got settled back in, but I feel like a prisoner. I need to be able to come and go as I please. I want to have a sense of real privacy. I want to be able to do and eat what I want when I want to. They're not unreasonable requests. They're what any self-respecting, independent adult would want.
Last night I paid the first month's rent and one month's deposit on a medium sized room near Sunset Park. The room is comfortable, all utilities - including internet - are included in the rent, and I liked the vibe I got from the landlord. It's also a month's commute and one day's lunch cheaper than the other room I was considering. With a sleeper sofa and laptop table from Ikea, and maybe some art on the wall it will be a good place for me to break away from the past month's stagnation.
The unseasonably warm weather has all but faded. If it were warmer, I'd go out on one of my long walks. I've been stationary too long.
1 comment:
*laugh* You remind me of ...well...me! I became a vegetarian at 17 and eventually vegan, my family still tries to serve me meat at any family function.I lived with my mom when I was in my twenties trying to save some money, and it nearly destroyed us! I can relate...the new room sounds great, I'm sure the stain of living with family will wash right out. On the other hand, he's your Grandfather...so love him unconditionally while you have him to love, he is from a different generation, and I'm sure set in his ways. You will laugh about all this one day, and treasure these irritating quirks when you look back on these moments after he's gone. Get out, be social, fight the good fight, all that jazz. ;)
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