Curb Trouble, A Retrospective

In honor of NaNoWriMo, I'm going to write out this month like a novel.

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Her windshield was so dirty that she was having a hard time seeing through it when the sun shined at just the right angle.  It was time for a car wash, her first proper one this year.  Getting Hubby up was quite the challenge, and they didn't end up leaving the house until 3:00 PM.

She choose the car wash by the old apartment because it was cheaper and they always did an amazing job.  Since they were already up there, it was decided that they would have dinner at the neighborhood bar and grill, the place of great significance to her.  It was the site of her first Big City Breakdown.

They had moved in that week, and met with nothing but adversity.  They wouldn't come in to turn on the heat and electricity until the end of the week.  In fact, they had the cable installed days before they had the electricity to run it.  They had even gone for a hair trim just to get their hair washed.  It was long before her pixie cuts, polka dot watch, and her ragtag group of girlfriends, or hypothyroidism would shake everything she knew.  When it was just her and Hubby, isolated and alone.

They had unloaded the largest Uhaul all by themselves, and the muscle fatigue was like no pain she had ever felt before.  They had gone out for the meal at the Neighborhood Bar and Grill because they had no electricity to cook, and stayed for longer than they should have because it was nice to just sit down and relax.  It was a mistake, as getting up would prove to be very painful after so little movement.

She got to the curb, and knew that stepping down to the street would cause an immense amount of pain.  The mere thought of having to endure it made her burst into tears, and she needed several minutes to stop crying and finally step down.  It wasn't really all about the pain of the curb, but about the decision that she had made.  Even on that day 10 years ago she knew she'd made a horrible mistake, that nothing was going to go her way.

Today, looking around the restaurant and remembering all the times she'd spent there, she knew she had been right, but also a little wrong.  Maybe it had been a mistake to move there and expect the things she did, but there were still plenty of good times to remember.  The small amount of friends she had made for a small period of time were good.  There were pockets of happiness in the last 10 years that she would look fondly back on.  Being at that restaurant felt like the right thing to do.  They visited the apartment one last time, and went home to the house that was about to also fast becoming part of their past.