Apartment life strains sanity

Fri., Dec. 17, 2004

Courtney Dunham Correspondent

It’s hard to know what to take and leave behind when you start all over.

My girlfriends told me to take everything I could from our three-bedroom, two-bath mortgage. But I didn’t really want any of our old stuff, so I took the necessities: the TV/VCR combo, a bed, the clothes that currently fit me and, of course, my dog Sammy. Left behind was my husband of 13 years and my 19-year-old cat The Babe, my first furry child. Leaving my cat behind broke my heart.

I was downscaling my life, period, as well as cramming into a two-bedroom apartment with a stranger who also had a dog, so I made the painful decision to leave my elderly kitty at home. I planned to see him every other weekend when I had custody of him and the house.

I drove away that Sunday quite teary – not doubting that it was the right thing to do, but rather because I was finally leaving. Sammy seemed to know just what our exit really meant, too. He gave The Babe a lick on the cheek at the door and upon seeing me break down in the driveway, placed his left paw on my forearm, as if to say, “It will be OK, Mama. You’re not alone. We’re in this together.”

I found my roommate through a service, and he seemed harmless. Sure, it wasn’t the most perfect way to find someone to share an apartment with, but what’s a newly single girl with married friends and not much money to do? Shared accommodations in other countries is no big deal, but here in America paranoia runs rampant. I was bombarded with, “What if he’s a psycho or a pervert?” by more than one of my friends. My simple answer was, “I’ll get a lock on my bedroom door.”

Jerry is harmless. Other than the fact that he mumbles and walks around with his butt crack showing most of the time, he’s fairly easy to be around. But what his ad didn’t say was that he’d have two to three friends over all day, every day, playing video games, downloading music and chatting online in the living room. Apparently, they’re all deaf, too, since I can usually hear the volume from the TV and both computers the minute I step out of my car.

Don’t get me wrong, I am all for company, but coming home every day to blaring kill-and-destroy noises is hard on anyone’s sanity. They’re all unemployed, too, so when I wake up grumpy and hear them on the computer, knowing I have to go to work irks me even more. Yes, they often sleep over. I have gone from living with one man to living with five boys, “The Computer Gang.” It’s enough to make me want to grab the bloody joystick and blow them all away.

I had forgotten just how shocking apartment living really is … how loud a car bass is at 2 a.m., how the sprinklers seem to go off outside your window just when you are drifting off, and how much it costs to live in virtually an over-sized dorm room. At least I have my own bathroom, which is a step up.

I’ve gone from thinking I’d be this independent, fun-loving single chick to a grumpy grandma who just wants to get a good night’s sleep. I keep hoping the girls from “Sex and the City” will come knocking to show me a good time, or one of my close friends will give me a plane ticket to Tuscany, so I too can run off and buy a villa. “Under the Tuscan Sun” has become my spiritual Bible of sorts, showing me that I am laying down the tracks for when the train comes. “Sex and the City” just reminds me to not take it all so seriously and that we’re never alone as long as we have our close girlfriends.

Support is hard to find out there, or more so understanding, as many don’t really know what it’s like unless they’ve walked that mile. Or is it a marathon? However far the distance, I’m finding I want to run to the next stage, but I am slowly realizing baby steps are the only way to complete this journey.

I admit it … starting over has been harder than I expected. Mom was right about that. I miss my house and I miss my cat terribly. I even miss my husband at times, but no more than I did when I was still living with him. I miss a partnership more than anything, a companion. Luckily for me, I’ve got Sammy.

Oh, and the Computer Gang, too. They’re always here.

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