How Can I keep Living Here?

 

Now, you wake up and think ... what did I just hear?

    I love movies, with background music lulling us to follow along, warning us of impending harm, surging at times to build our character empathy, and swaying us into warm feelings of joy. I find myself anticipating upcoming events and preparing for any misgivings along the storyline. When I walk in the afternoon, listening to an audio book, I embrace the same qualities found in the voice that guides me through the pages that hold the written words I choose to hear rather than see. I am grateful for those cues that add emotion and comprehensional support. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have these in real life?!

    Imagine, coming home to hear gentle harp-playing angelical chords in the peaceful moments before you set to making the final meal of the day. Between bites and chatter with your child, you sense the calming effects of a playful piano rendition of a jazz favourite. Then the pace slows and you melt into your couch, turn on the current show that you are engrossed with, and fight head bobs while a sweet and slow melody rhythmically draws you into a dream state. What a greata way to end your work day.

    BBBLLLLLTTTTTTT! Nope. Not my end of day. Mine would be ... 

    Here I come to the corner before seeing my home ... and a drum begins to gain volume and momentum, waking my stress levels and raising them up to a palpable plateau. Oh, no! My neighbour is once again standing outside, this time flirting with my landscaper ... WAIT! She sees me ... she is running away and into her home, leaving the workman with a puzzled look on his face. The music lightens. Phew!

    I pull into the driveway and step out of my car and he shares his confusion. The theme from Jeopardy begins to play. "Your neighbour told me to give her your steps and bricks that I am replacing. She admitted that she hadn't asked you but said that you would be fine with it. I told her she had to ask you first." Triumphant crescendo! His head turns in the direction of her home with the unspoken question hanging in the air, "Why didn't she come ask you when she saw you coming home?" I nod and thank him for redirecting her, assuring him that I had plans for the steps and bricks.

    My landscaper shakes his head as he goes to his truck to leave, with a wave and "see you tomorrow." A short musical jaunty plays ... until ...

    Within five minutes my neghbour bounds up my steps and knocks on my door (early days pre-door smooch). When I answer, she wastes no time stating her wanting my steps and bricks ... yes, not asking, more stating what SHE wants from me. A low vibration of a trombone stirs. My mind alternates between 1) "I don't appreciate your not asking me before speaking with my landscaper", and 2) "Oh, unfortunately, I have already made plans to use them in my backyard." A sad saxophone begins to wail ... Yup. You guessed it. I chose option 2, to keep some semblance of peace and avoid the reaction that would surely result from any assertion in facing this person. Silence between soundtracks ... the repeated clicking of the needle hitting the centre of the LP can be heard. She turns and retreats down my steps, with a look of mild disbelief (I think/hope) while I hold my breath.

    The needle raises and a new LP drops ... I wait with relief and a familiar sense of self-disappointment ... to hear the tone of the next selection...