Been feeling very angry recently. I really want my life back, when I didn’t have to spend every day planning and cooking all meals, or doing laundry, or cleaning. Or having the type of freedom and privacy a child has at home (ie zero). I need not feel like I’m carrying a 100 ton backpac. I need to not have to listen to stuff I don’t care about the second I step into listening range. I don’t care which plastic bag is used to carry boxes of biscuits. I don’t care that the #7 bus was late. I don’t care what that receipt is that was on the table. I want to be able to watch tv in silence. I just want to go about my day as if I were living on my own.
Even with bugs and heat and a leaking aircon, I was happy in New York because I was accountable to only myself. I chose to meet up with my cousin and his family and it was a wonderful evening. I chose to meet up with my friend JC to do a walking exploration of the city and it was fantastic. Other times, I chose to be on my own and I didn’t need anyone’s permission or interference.
I did not choose this situation I find myself in.
I feel smothered and trapped.
I have no solution.
The only thought that can calm me down is a fantasy. I imagine packing my bag, may be my duffel. I think about the clothes I will bring: not too many, I can do laundry but I need to be prepared for summer, winter, sun and rain. I’ll bring my electronics and running stuff. Documents. I’ll need to go to the bank to withdraw or transfer money. But I’ll leave behind my books and my whiskies and my furniture, can’t be helped.
Then I will disappear. Go into hiding.
My fantasy is predicable, I end up on a flight to the UK, because that’s where I feel most comfortable. No visa issues, no language barrier, I can get a job if necessary.
I look on airbnb for cheap places to stay, at least in the beginning. The search is for the whole UK and under £50 a night. Own space, not a room in someone’s house. I still want wifi and a proper kitchen so I can cook. This discounts lots of places that only have a hotplate or microwave. A lot of entire place listings are actually rooms in one big house so there’s quite a bit of misrepresentation too.
Here’s someone’s converted shed at the bottom of the garden in Gant’s Hill. Converted sheds, garages, caravans, even tents are aplenty:
A wee flat in the Orkneys:
What a nice fantasy. Keeping me just this side of sane right now.