After 13 years(!) of living in the corrupted northeast corridor and beyond, my Colorado heart itches for big sprawling spaces, skies that actually get dark and dear old friends. Our dreamy visit to my mom's house and some QT with Mr. One’s family reminded me why I so crave that Rocky Mountain High. We had a glorious time (and I have the pictures to prove it. What I don't have is the cord to retrieve said pictures from my camera. Next week, friends, I promise!!).
While frolicking in that bucolic land of friendly people and abundant parking spaces, our urban world kept chugging along. And not really in a good way. Don’t get me wrong -- I love my city. Sometimes I think I want to stay Right Here forever. But when the West beckons with the siren call of better weather and better schools, and Home beckons with, well, sirens, the contrast can lead to that widespread ailment of the Conflicted Urbanite: Ghetto Fatigue.
Top 5 Symptoms of Ghetto Fatigue
as indicated by actual events of the last couple weeks
1. You wonder if urban homesteading might be more pleasant in a rural environment.
2. You are annoyed upon receiving notice of an impending fine because someone tagged your front steps (rather than just being grateful that the police are keeping an eye on your neighborhood!)
3. You tell your sisters you’re headed “downtown” to buy milk. In LaVeta, Colorado. Population 834.
4. You remain disturbed that your toddler prefers to toddle on pavement rather than grass.
5. When the police call to let you know your car window was bashed in by thugsters, you think it might be a sign that you should trade it in for a minivan.
Happily, I think my case is pretty mild. A quick stroll around the neighborhood, (see picture below, courtesy my cell phone), proved a worthy remedy.
For now.
