I've had a difficult time finding the time to do much of anything these days. Jeremy went back to work two weeks ago. While it would only take 25 minutes (if that) for him to get to work, we do not have a car. Half the week we take Mobility, the other half we take the bus.
Mobility costs $1.85 for me (Jeremy rides for free), one way. If we were to use their service every day, we'd spend one of Jeremy's four paychecks just on fare alone. While Jeremy doesn't start work until 2pm, Mobility is supposed to pick us up at 12:20. Except that's just the start of the window. They can come whenever they want after that time. Sometimes they'll make you wait an hour and a half. Sometimes they will take us directly to work. Other times we have to ride along while they pick up other customers and drop those people off at their destinations. When we didn't get home until after 9pm last Wednesday (Jeremy gets off work around 5:30) we decided that maybe we should avoid Mobility on Wednesdays. A couple days later a driver confirmed that Wednesdays are one of their worst days, that everything runs late.
If we ride the bus, we both ride for free but we have to catch a bus and go all the way into the city (saw them filming “House of Cards” yesterday), only to catch another bus and go all the way back into the county. The bus from the city into the county (the 15) is always standing room only until we get to the county, then it clears out. Sometimes I have to ride backward on that bus because there's not enough room for me to spin my chair. If we take the bus, we leave the apartment at noon.
Either way, if we make it home before dark it's like we won a contest. That doesn't happen often.
But I have seen a helicopter with its searchlight on circling the next block over as we stood at the bus stop in “Spanish Town.” I listened to live mariachi type music at the bar across the street from the bus stop the night before that. I've twice crossed the spot where Poe died, and we can't walk down Broadway in front of the 7-11 at the corner of the block where the drug rehab center is located without someone bumming a cigarette from Jeremy. And you know what? ALL of this happens on Broadway, which happens to be the street that runs through the center of the John's Hopkins campus.
I don't live in the city, but almost.
When we get home I must immediately pee and have something to drink. Jeremy makes dinner; I do my online auctions and surveys. We eat dinner. If it's not too late and we will sometimes shower. Then I go to sleep.
We get up around 9 am and do it all again.
Today we are catching up on things that need to be done. As I write this, Jeremy is sawing wood to replace the big bump of wood that separated the kitchen from the carpet. I couldn't get into the kitchen without fighting against that bump for three minutes. I couldn't get out of the kitchen without almost falling out of my chair several times while trying to throw my body weight over the bump. We could have gone to the Russian Festival, but I couldn't handle the idea of getting on a bus today. We could have gone to the outdoor screening of Hitchcock's “The Birds” at the theater down the street, but I'd like to get the apartment vacuumed. We could have gone to the outdoor festival at the mall, but I'd like to get the bathroom cleaned. We missed the flea market out front because we couldn't get out of bed until after noon.
Hopefully tomorrow my computer desk will finally arrive from my parents' house. Last week my mom ended up filling her van with my dresser and some boxes, after Jeremy's friend with a truck had something else pop up. This will take forever if I can only get one piece of furniture a week.
The walls here are paper-thin. I have named the chatty man next door Charlie. There seems to be another guy living there, too. I've named him Dan, but I can't remember why. Everyone outside loves to yell. We bought adjustable screens to put in our windows (the building is about 100 years old - see above pic. The window sills don't have grooves for screens) only to discover that after a long day of baking in the heat, the half-dozen dumpsters in the alley behind our apartment smell pretty rancid. We bought scented candles, but we're also right next to all the air conditioners for the apartment building and some huge contraption that runs sporadically and loudly all the time.
But Jeremy and I are making this our home.
We can make this good.