I'm sitting here typing this blog post out in one of those rare moments in between shifts at work and removing my belongings from the old apartment into the house. Believe me, August is proving to be one of those months from hell, and I am absolutely amazed that I am even making time to write anything at all today.
Mind you, this entry is going to be a short one, as I have a full schedule on my plate. Let's put it this way. The hiatus is coming up very soon. Be warned.
You know, it is so weird being in this place, seeing how different it looks as opposed to how it looked a few months ago. A few months ago, there were pictures hanging on the walls, the shelves and closets were filled with random things, and you could walk through the place without tripping over anything - except for the random size 12 sneaker that I might have taken off in a half-asleep stupor.
Now I look around and the walls are absolutely bare (except for the odd picture hanger that I've been too lazy to remove), the shelves are empty, and there are so many boxes on the floor that I almost have to crawl over top of them to get to places. At least I have a couple of days off coming up, so I hope to get the majority of the stuff shipped over to the new place during that time.
After all, I have until the end of August to get all the stuff out of there.
But can anyone out there actually say that they love packing up to move? I hate moving!
(I guess this explains why I spent eleven years in this place...eleven years of horrible neighbours, police cars pulling into the driveway at least once a week, and being woken up every morning at 6:25 like clockwork by people who feel the need to honk their car horns at full blast because they can. I hated the idea of packing because it takes too much work!)
But you know, this move has been long overdue, and I decided that I didn't want to put it off any longer. I needed to get out of this shoebox of lies, and move on out.
Huh...Shoebox of Lies. That was a great song by the Barenaked Ladies. (And the inspiration behind the title of this post!)
Anyway, I'm really looking forward to getting out of this place. To be completely honest, I haven't really enjoyed the experience all that much. I mean, when I first moved into this place in July 2004, it was out of desperation really. I was bouncing around from job to job, and I didn't really have much of a future.
I mean, don't get me wrong, I was grateful to live here, and it was fairly close to the place that I would eventually call my workplace. But I've also come to the conclusion that after eleven years of living in this shoebox of lies that I can't really handle apartment living.
For one, every single person in this apartment wants to know everything that you are doing at every given moment of the day. I mean, there's one lady who I basically refer to as the building's security guard because she's always standing at the front doors, or she's always looking out her window, or she's always opening up her door to eavesdrop on conversations that people are having in the hallways.
And lucky me, she happened to live right across the hallway. Did I win the lottery or what?
And to make matters worse, she did a lot of things that a lot of other people in the building would partake in.
This is the very reason why I refer to this apartment building as a shoebox of lies.
I know I'm throwing out an obscure reference to some of you...but my former apartment building is a lot like the Final Fantasy VI town of Zozo. Now, whenever I played Final Fantasy VI, I would always dread it. It's a city landscape that happens to have thieves that will steal from you, punks who will start up fights for no reason, and people who are absolutely incapable of telling the truth.
Well, looking back on it, I think I lived in one of Zozo's buildings. You try to talk to your neighbours, and you never can tell whether what they are saying is the truth, or a big ball of lies. Eventually, I gave up trying, and just kept to myself. It made life a lot less complicated that way.
I can also probably count the number of times that neighbours picked fights with each other on both my hands, my toes, and every hair on my head as well as the hairs on the heads of everyone who lived in the building over the last eleven years. Actually, maybe I can't. I don't know how to count that high. What number comes after a billion anyway?
Of course, this isn't to really bash everybody that lived in my building. To be told, there were some good people who lived there, and who continue to live there. Jordan, Derek, Bobbie, Linda...and a few others who happened to have come and gone over the years. It's people like you that kept me sane over the last eleven years, and honestly, I can't thank you enough for that.
But I'm gonna be honest. I won't miss the rest of you. In fact, I don't care if I ever see any of you again. I have my own life to live now, and at least with a house, I can pick and choose who I want to invite into it. Sorry to say, the more I got to know you, the less impressed I was. And now, I'm getting out of here while the rest of you can spend the rest of your lives in this shoebox of lies. Enjoy the bed you chose to lie in. Like the Jeffersons, I'm movin' on up, and I've finally got a piece of the pie.