I admit, my mood has been better. Since it’s spring, I’m back to having disgusting flies dive-bombing around my apartment. I have tried every trick I can come up with but the only one that works is this nasty spray fly killer for which you are supposed to close all the doors and windows after you spray it. So you have two choices, leave the flat, or stay and breath in the nasty stuff that is probably giving you nerve damage because THE BLOODY ENGLISH DON’T PUT SCREENS ON WINDOWS. You then get the privilege of picking up fly carcasses all afternoon.
It’s days like this when I want to throw my hands up in disgust and go home. When I’m tired and I can’t remember why this seemed like such a great idea. When I would give anything for the familiarity of my apartment in Virginia with windows with screens AND an outdoor balcony facing the mountains. Even though I hated my job and my life then. But then it hits me, I’m trapped like a rat. The unraveling process of escaping from here would be horrendous. Not to mention the fact that I would have to find a new job and it would have to be a good one that paid relocation and even then it would probably take another year and who knows where I would end up and if it would be any better. If there would be fewer little annoyances buzzing around in my head the way the flies were buzzing around my living room until 10 minutes ago. Believe me, I want to be cheerful and hard-working and accomplished and fun but it’s really hard to do that when you hear “bzzzzzzzzzzzz” all around you, day in, day out.