i hear my neighbors fighting again. their fighting consists of cursing and door-slamming and crying which thrash against our shared walls. i haven’t heard neighbors fight in a long time. many years ago, papi and i were the couple that fought whose neighbors could hear them through shared walls. but our fighting only lasted a couple years and out of a couple decades, a couple years many years ago ain’t much. i also hear street traffic from my open balcony door. my last apartment was quiet, except for the train. there were only trees, creek, and a train behind the last place and neighbors who fought quietly, secretly, silently. this place opens onto a parking lot that faces the neighborhood’s main thoroughfare. i wonder why i moved. i don’t like this new place. i liked the old one, but i wanted to move. in the not-liking this place and having-liked the old place, i find that, even so, i’m glad i moved.
the new place has bed bugs. i’ve been bitten in twenty places. wizard has been bitten in thirty places. papi has been bitten not at all. (but papi is older and crabbier and hairier and probably doesn’t taste good to blood-sucking bugs.) the pest control people will be here in the morning to heat-treat this place. i’ll have to wash everything, twice. washing everything i own is the best incentive to get rid of half of what i own.
i baked lemon bars today. they weren’t as good as my grandmother’s. they never will be. i might not bake them ever again. they make me miss my grandmother.
i went dancing last night. my partners were careful with the healing incisions on my right side. they led me gently and slowly, until we both forgot that we had to be careful and then we spun and twisted like we usually do and i was fine.