I hate the change. I really do.
I had too many changes during the past years and I greet the new one with the words which are probably not suitable for the daily programme. There are lot of F words, somebody sons and other inappropriate terms in my mental vocabulary for the past days. And I must remind myself to use them out loud because I have the headache from the moment I open my eyes in the morning.

I moved. Into a beautiful new apartment, all shiny and new, delightfully decorated (love the yellow tone in the living room), with nice shiny gadgets, with air-cons all over the place including the bathroom (oh, I finally have the bath tub again), lots of sun coming from the outside, nice large terrace, I`m surrounded with pine trees and the sea is just 3 minutes away. Beautiful isn`t it? Well, at the moment I almost hate every minute of it.

Why? Because for the first time in my life I left the city. The city, you know, that crowded noisy place, where the apartments are small, where you can see trees only in the parks, where you hear every word of your neighbours, where after finding a parking place circuling the block just for 10 minutes you open a bottle of champagne, where sometimes you can`t fall asleep because some moron decided that he felt like singing at 3 a.m. right in front of your building, the place where you need a helmet and a baseball bat during the rush hour, where nobody knows anyone and you are pleasantly cloaked by anonymity which comes handy in certain situations … you know, the city.

So, this morning, after opening my eyes and getting scared again because for the moment I couldn`t recognize where the hell am I, and getting the headache from it, suddenly Heraclitus came into my thoughts. You know, the Greek guy which was so fascinated by changes, the one I curse right now for the saying „nothing endures but the change“. Well you can take it and shove it in your @##!!!!!
And don`t give some Deepak Chopra #&!!!%&# either because I DON`T LIKE THE CHANGE. A-a, every damn time I move, I get completly stressed out, I bump into furniture for the first 3 months, I wake up jumping from bed, I am disorientated and as soon as I get use to the place and relax, something happens and I move again.

And I miss the city. Miss everything that was just a street away: shops, library, favorite caffe`, my friends, even the family…and the noise. You are not aware how that city noise is actually soothing until you lay in the bed at night and you hear…nothing! Complete silence! No cars passing by, no talk or laughter on the street, no music coming from bars, restaurants, other people`s cars or apartment, complete absence of all those machines which always rumble and you are never sure where and what are they. Nada. Niente. Nichts. Rien.
And you need the car for everything. You can`t just throw on your coat, walk for few minutes and get what you want, now I have to actually plan things. (and for some reason, I feel like a housewife from the 50s, don`t ask why, still haven`t figured that one out)

Yeah, yeah, I know, it takes time. But still, I am a city girl used to all ups and downs of a ordinary architectural beehive in which everything is here and now.

So dear Heraclitus, you dirty ol` …., here`s to you. There, I admit, I`m busted. I feel like standing naked on the strong wind wondering should I keep on trying to hold to the ground or just let myself fly away, wherever that wind may carry me.

Because I (it surely looks like) deserve it, 67.

P.S. one other thing, what`s with the weather?!? This is Mediterranean for crying out loud, what`s with the strong wind and snow?!? I dreamed of quiet walks by the sea under the pine trees with the gentle sun on my back, not that I would have to grab and hold the damn trees  just to get to the shop!

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