Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Zen Lifestyle

I need to relax. I got off work an hour ago, and I came straight home. Lizzie's still pouring over the journal, said she'll let me know if something comes up.

The minute I stepped in the door, I immediately felt a wave of relief wash over me, and I began to feel less stressed out. Home really is where the heart is. I have a strict ruling: never bring my work home with me. With that ruling in mind, I can sit back, eat my dinner, and not worry about a damn thing.

Before long, I'm in my recliner, my microwave dinner on my lap and a wine bottle next to me, red wine in the glass in my hand that I'm sipping delicately, savoring the flavor. I may be a bachelor, and I may be a police dog, but I like to drink fancy every now and again.

As I'm eating, I listen to the sounds of the cars passing by, of some jackass honking his horn at someone else, at a dog barking at some random passer-by, and instead of growing agitated, it all just puts me in a deeper sense of serenity. I like the noises of the city-burbs. There's something delightfully soothing about it.

When I was a kid, we lived out in the woods. The unbearable quiet always unsettled me, being out in the middle of nowhere with no decent civilization around. With trees all around us and very soft windows it felt like you could hear every fart, giggle and apology within a ten-mile radius. Every branch snapping and rustling of leaves put me on edge, like some maniac was prowling outside the house waiting to break in and steal all our stuff. I knew it was just animals, but it was terrifying. Needless to say, I did not get much sleep growing up in that house.

We moved to the burbs just within the city limits when I was thirteen, and despite the creepiness of adjusting to a new room, I had terrific nights of sleep. Those cars passing by meant there was a world out there, close by. I was not alone in the middle of a world made more terrifying with the moonlight. If something happened, someone would be close by to hear my screams. No more boogeymen, no more phantom branch sounds. I could rest easy.

Most people move to some desolate piece of land when they retire so that they can get some peace and quiet. God, not me. After over twelve years of that seclusion, I think I've had just about all the peace I could ever want. The city's the best place in the world to live in, and despite the stereotypical depiction, it's also one of the safest.

Where I live it is, anyway.

I live alone, though I do have a hamster named Chips that I inherited from my aunt. He's a pudgy little bastard and he makes a lot of noise, but that noise just adds to that noise I need to put myself to sleep. All in all, he's good company. Lizzie comes over a lot too, mainly just to hang out because she knows my ruling about our work in my house. Every time she's over she insists on cleaning up the pigsty that is my life. That always confuses me; men like their messes, women like to clean their messes, or I assume they must because they're always doing it. Can't we all just get along, reach an agreement? Would save a lot of arguments.

She's a terrible cook, so whenever she's over, I take it upon myself to make dinner (and sometimes breakfast, depending on if she's spending the night). It's probably the only time the kitchen ever gets any use. I'm no Iron Chef, but I picked up a few things from my mother, who is a gourmet in her own right. It's either that or we order pizza, but either way, food gets in our bellies.

Lizzie probably comes over here more than I go to her place, and she insists that it's because I have more room and my bed is bigger. Both true. I once joked that she should just move in with me, to save her the gas fare and the expensive rent where she lives. She just gave me this weird look and I realized what I had just said. We haven't talked about it since.

I flip on the TV and immediately go to NBC, see what they have for comedy tonight. I rarely ever watch the news in my house. Save it for work, online, or if the chief turns it on in case we're on there and he feels like chewing us out. My house, I say again, is a place of peace. The news just messes that up. I've got a great system working, why mess that up?

The wine's starting to hit me. I think I'll take a bath and then go to bed. Completely blissful, and just the way I like it.


  1. Untitled

    if LIFE is PAIN,
    i am IMMORTAL.

  2. ...Man, they're all coming out of the woodwork on this thing, aren't they?

  3. Eh, it's the internet. You get a lot of weird shit, no?

  4. @X
    life is pain and joy, you need balance. seriously your way to cynical.

  5. If you ask me this X person seems suspicious... I'm sure this blog is finished as the last post is in July... let's see what happens :D

  6. What do you mean he's suspicious? He's no more suspicous than any other crackjob on the internet. I think he's just doing that to screw with people. Hell, I've done it. Most people do. It's called fun at other peoples expense.

    1. If that's your idea of fun, you need to turn the monitor off and get a life. Seriously.