Out of my mind.
As in Spent-Two-Days-In-My-Jammies bored.
As in Looking-Forward-To-A-Trip-To-The-Grocery-Store bored.
As in Actually-Cleaned-The-House-A-Little bored.
I hate the suburbs.
Last week man found me in our bedroom staring at my computer and
blubbering like a psychotic quietly weeping all over a torn tissue. I’d been ruminating over photos of my old neighborhood, of the coffee shop where I hung out, of a street that I could navigate with my eyes closed…
“What’s the matter with you?” He asked, handing me a new tissue to replace the one I’d demolished.
I remained silent. Well, unless you count the mewling.
“I…” I began, but lost my nerve.
He stared at me. Stared through me.
“Baby, I love you, and I love our life, and I’m so glad I’m here, but…”
Then, with all the emotion of a guilty spouse divulging the excruciating details of a torrid indiscretion, I pulled in a deep breath and blurted out the following words:
“I-I-I H-haaaate the Sub-bur-bur-(choke)-burbs!” And then begin to sob.
The confession hung in the air between us for what felt like forever. He stood in heavy silence as I blubbered and bawled over and over again “I hate it! I hate it so much! I’m so sorry, but I hate this town!”
I watched, helpless, as he pulled a screwed up face.
He got all tight lipped, like I’d just fed him a lemon.
His eyes watered.
Then he began… To laugh. Hysterically.
“FINALLY!” He chuckled, wiping a stray tear from his eye, “I’ve been waiting a year for you to admit you hate it here!”
“W-what?” I sniffled, coughed, wiped.
He sat on the bed beside me and wrapped his arm snugly around my shoulders. Respectfully he tried to contain his giggles. Thanks.
“Baby, nobody in their right mind likes it here. I’ve been thinking there’s something wrong with you because you keep saying you like it here.”
“I lied.” Sniffle, wipe, weep. “I didn’t want you to think I was going to up and leave someday.”
“Oh, Baby.. I wouldn’t think that!”
Thanks. Not only am I bored, but I’m boring and predictable to boot. Not to mention stationary. I feel better by leaps and bounds now.
After he graduates, we’re moving.