An Oddly Careful Day in the Life
We’re all just looking for our place in the world and people who understand us
I don’t know how I got like this. Maybe it was one too many bumps on the head. Over a lifetime, I mean. I used to be sort of clumsy when I was younger. Maybe that was it. Sometimes I think it was from when I lived in Germany for this one, very intense year, working in an industrial, sprawling city. It seems like I changed right after that. Became so obsessive. So organized. So clean.
Like maybe I was exposed to so many toxic things all at once, and so far away from home, it sort of rewired things. I don’t know. It’s weird even to me.
Gazing out the window of my northside studio apartment, I watch the world go by. People seem so normal. Whatever that means. I guess it means different things to different people. I try not to think about that word too much. In my life? What I do really have to think about is enough. All the things, the so very many things, I have to think about before I can venture out my door. The tenants in my building, they barely know me, though I feel like I know them.
I watch them coming and going, see them with their friends.
Like, Matty, for example. He lives on the third floor on the opposite side of the building. I know he can’t keep…
