Unintentional Viewings

I'm a Texas girl.  I love New Orleans, but my soul craves wide, open spaces.  I drive across the lake sometimes just to breathe.  The city wears on me.  I can hear my neighbor yelling at her kid.  She can hear me yelling at mine.  I can hear my other neighbor rustling around late at night.  He can hear my kettle whistle early in the morning.  I can't go outside without someone seeing me.  (I forget this fact often and end up running inside to put on more clothes.)  When I took a dumpster dive to retrieve my keys, word spread to my friend whose daughter goes to the school across the street from me.  I may  publish my life in a blog, but these are manipulated words and thought out topics.  Being seen without the intention of being seen is quite different. 

I have lived in many different cities.  But somehow I escaped the crowds.  Houston was by far the biggest city I lived in, but my little corner of the world, although it was busy, still afforded me space.  We had a huge lot, a pool, and a horse.  I lived on Long Island as a nanny in an estate with no neighbors that I could see.  I lived in Winnetka, IL outside of Chicago in a large house also as a nanny, in a quiet neighborhood with sprawling houses.  My apartment in Austin was on the outskirts of the city.  You could see for miles in the landscape that was my back porch.

I'm not generally a fan of such tight quarters as the ones I live in here.

I have thought about moving to a house in the country that would provide more space.  But then I remember the lady in the movie Misery and decide maybe that would be a bad idea.  I could be her.  Woman turned psycho because she had too much room to think. (maybe that's not at all what made her psycho but for my purpose, we'll go with that theory.)

And truthfully, when my boys aren't with me I'm not home much.  I can only take quiet in my house in small doses.  Isolation may sound great when I find myself in awkwardly tight quarters, but my sanity needs people.   Awkward or not.  I shouldn't be left alone to my own devices.

I am unintentionally seen in the city.  I sing loudly with the windows rolled down only to find an amused onlooker watching me.  I run into the grocery store early in the morning before I've brushed my teeth (ok, let's be real...this could be anytime of day because I often forget to brush) and run into a client.  I take a jaunt at the lake and get a text from a friend who's just seen me.  I go to my favorite bar and someone stops in because they see my car.  There is no hiding in this city of close quarters.

And with the rate I'm going as a single mom, I can't afford to lose my sanity in the woods.  I have two little boys watching me at all times.  Their eyes are much more precious than anyone else's.  And my guess is the amount of insanity versus sanity in a country house would outweigh any benefit it may provide.  So for now, I'll happily run to the store in inappropriate clothing with stinky breath and smelling of garbage from my recent dumpster dive and sing loudly with my boys while onlookers gawk. 

Unintentional or not, it's good to be seen.