My nesting urges have hit an all-time high. It was always there but I decided against moving out with the offspring for all kinds of reasons ranging from the legitimate (the kiddo needing her grandparents around) and the frivolous (having nosy aunties for neighbours) to the mind-blowingly absurd (my fear of slaying cockroaches). But it's resurfaced of late and hasn't been letting me sleep for the last few consecutive nights. I blame this on the twenty-somethings I've been hanging out with of late. They all seem so sorted and have these really pretty apartments. When I was 27, I was busy dealing with the consequences of all my decisions until that point - which resulted in me going flat broke for three years. I mean, isn't that what people do in their twenties? Make terrible decisions? Apparently not. So naturally, I've been feeling a little cheated and also going into that dark, oh-I'm-such-an-underachiever place.
So I've been thinking of that dream apartment again. Except, I know for a fact that I cannot afford the one I'm seeing in my head for another five years at least. Unless you know, it's haunted or something. Yeah, I remember someone telling me a long time ago of this gorgeous, independent house in a prime location - that his friend managed to get for an absolute steal because rumour had it that the house was haunted. My friend went on and on about how stupid people were to believe in ghosts but I remember thinking then that I could never move into a haunted house (rumour or not) even if they offered it to me for free and told me that the ghost in question was going to be Kurt Cobain's!
But that was many years ago. I've changed now. I've had time to reconsider.
And no, I still don't think it's stupid to believe in the existence of ghosts or haunted houses but why this assumption that they must be such terrible companions? No, seriously. Give me a ghost to a nosy aunty for a neighbour ANY DAY. I know people with classic poltergeist situations in their houses - such as the potty flushing itself, grinders spontaneously doing their thing, mysterious rapping on the door (this, even I have had), you name it. And while they've all been spooked from time to time, nothing worse has ever been reported. I've been thinking about this and in the light of all the monstrous attacks on humans by humans of late, I'm really warming up to the idea of ghosts in my apartment.
For starters, I get why ghosts are disgruntled - they are dead, for God's sake. Give them a break. And if what they show in The Vampire Diaries is true, then they are stuck on 'The Other Side' all alone with absolutely nothing to do. Horrors. I mean, there is nothing I'm more afraid of than the idea of being bored for eternity. Boredom and blahness scare me in equal measure - so I empathize.
In fact, I just might be in a place in life where I could be really good friends with a ghost.
See, humans are great and all that but at some point, I find it all to be a bit much. On the one hand, I find that deep emotional involvement with people leaves me feeling depleted, suffocated and makes me want to run. But then again, too much of the superficial socializing thing makes me feel empty and alone. In that very sad, alone-in-a-crowd kind of way. It's at this point that I end up listening to songs like Who's gonna drive you home tonight, shed copious tears till my mascara runs and then look in the mirror and feel extra sorry for myself.
The solution, I suppose, is to do all things in moderation except I'm the queen of extremes and have no idea how to not overdo anything I enjoy - in the beginning. Till of course, the high wears off and suddenly, the world isn't spinning anymore and that judgy voice in my head laughs darkly - 'Are you seriously telling me you did this to yourself AGAIN?'
I've been judging myself very harshly of late and I feel that familiar need to withdraw once again - you know, slow-down-become-zen-and-sell-my-ferrari kind of thing. And I think at this point, a ghost would make the perfect companion.
We could both be disgruntled together. In fact, I might just give him a few addresses to haunt - flush toilets, cut off the power supply, switch the shampoo and Fevicol, make giggling sounds every time The Chosen Ones step into the shower and take off their clothes, keep saying 'boo' when they're in the middle of any kind of steamy act, like that. JOY.
If it were a girlfriend on the other hand, we'd be psycho-analyzing some guy over Nutella into the wee hours of the night.
What a pointless waste of time.
This way, once we (the ghost and I), have indulged in our random acts of pettiness, would feel like all is well with the world again. No long talks, no tears, no self-pity-inducing songs. Bliss. We'd slow dance to Unchained Melody and feel like Demi Moore and Patrick Swayze.
Unless of course the ghost in question is in fact Kurt Cobain's. Then it'd be a very different song ;-)