Daydream Believer

I went for a drive on my lunch hour, just to get out into the sunshine for a while. I was actually on my way to Wendy's to get some chilli when an impulse took over and got me to turn onto a residential street to see what kind of houses were back there. Eventually I ended up by the river, near where I used to live when I made a genuine stab at inedependence that one time, so I decided to go check out my old neighborhood.

They completely rennovated my old apartment complex, y'all, to the point that it was almost unrecognizable. This is not necessarily a bad thing. It needed some updating. But for some reason they took down all the balconies. Including my old balcony, where I used to hang out with Mitzi the wonder chihuahua and Vanilla the persnickity ice cream kitty. We'd mock the squirrels and gawk at the other wildlife that gathered in and around the pretty little stream that ran past below.

I have a lot of memories of those particular beloved pets that are set on that balcony. Like how I fixed it up with plastic chicken wire all around so that they could go out there and sun themselves without falling through the railing, but then Mitzi was too afraid to walk out there because she could see through the deck slats to the ground. Or how they both freaked out and went nuts when a family of racoons invaded our balcony to steal some dog treats I'd left out there. Hours spent just sitting and reading and watching nature with Mitzi in my lap and one watchful eye on Vanilla to make sure she didn't try to make a break for it over the railing.

I've been talking up the possibility of moving back there to Matt, in case we can't find a house that we're both happy with in our price range; but I realize that what I really loved about that apartment was my little balcony. Now that balcony's just as gone as those pets are. When I saw its absence I almost cried.