A truly easy way for one to feel out of place and unsafe is right after holidays. It’s also known as post-holiday depression. And for those in long-distance relationships, it’s called long-distance-relationship-post-visit depression.

I know because I googled it.

I also googled whether or not there is a grocery store called Total Foods after watching Meryl Streep in Ricki and the Flash on the plane.

There isn’t.

So for the last few days, I am furious to say that no, I was not allowed the luxury to cry myself to sleep.

Here is why.

The main lock to my apartment is broken. Which means that no one in my apartment can lock the door. Which means that someone can break into the apartment when everyone is asleep. Which means, being in the room closest to the door, I am the first victim.

Oh for God’s sake. I would have thought that the fat-person-dies-the-first cliché was outdated.

So here is what happens when I go to bed. I try to let it out. Come on. Cry a little. It’s ok. Listen to Judy Garland. And then just as the first tear is about to roll down my eye, I get fear.The fear that someone is going to break into my aparment and kill me.

And I am not sad anymore. I am scared shitless.

It’s working so well that I hope the other girls never call the landlord to get the door fixed until my significant other visits (I hate that word).

The lock is supposed to face down. Not sideways.



2 thoughts on “Broke&Broken

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