“Omph!”
I slump into my sinking couch cushions, relieved of the experience of people, and commuting, and Cecilia, and especially of her underhanded remarks. That woman always has a way of putting me in a mood. I let my eyes wander around my apartment, derailing my angry internal voices.
I live in a sparingly updated High Park North studio apartment, a small space with one large living area and a separate bathroom and a small bedroom. My main living room/kitchen/dining room is an open floor plan with a small kitchen island acting as my breakfast nook and dining room table. My filthy kitchen brings me shame, but only when my landlord sees it since no one else is ever around. I glance over at it and the dish rack crammed full of more dishware than I have space for. Most days I’m lazy and re
