I Hate My Curtains

Hey world,

When I used to blog frequently, I often found that opening a new blog post and furiously typing whatever came out was a form of catharsis for me -- regardless if I published it for left it in the purgatory of my drafts. 

Now that I blog only once in awhile, I have slowly noticed a bottlenecking of emotions. And boy, is this bottle of emotions ready to burst!

As I'm typing this, it's 3:51 am on a Sunday (Monday) morning. It's Martin Luther King Jr. Day; a holiday celebrating a man who rose before a movement and led a struggle that dramatically altered the United States for the better. 

Ironically, I'm embroiled in my own struggle (though certainly not anywhere near as momentous of proportions). 

But like MLK I have a dream and, like MLK, I desire change.


This past Saturday, I had one of the nice maintenance men who works in my building come and install my curtain rod. When he left, I dragged over my stool and hung up my very first pair of curtains. 

I expected to have this great moment of triumph; I had aesthetically completed my apartment! 
Instead, I shrugged my shoulders and dragged my stool back to the island. 

The next morning, I woke up and thought "I wonder if I feel different now that I have curtains!" -- surprisingly, I didn't. Now that I'm staring at them in the dark...I'm still not impressed with them.

They've slid from a temporary moment of triumph to living proof that I'm now completely compliant with the vision of NYC apartment-living domesticity. 


I think the curtains need to come down.
Change is imminent; but first, there must be a struggle. 


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