God gave us nature so we don't go crazy

The longer I manage the building we live in, the more I need to get outside. It suffocates the soul, this job. Some days my phone rings almost 100 times by the time dinner rolls around. My phone hasn't been turned off in almost a year, and it rings and dings at all hours of the day and night.

A few too many of the tenants have gotten a little too friendly and ask for friend-like favors when I do not want to be their friend. Can you feed our cat this weekend? Can you watch for my package and put it inside my door when it arrives? Can you tell the guys talking outside in the hallway that I'm trying to take a nap? Guys, no. Just no. I am not your friend. Do not contact me unless there is water leaking from your ceiling.

Sometimes I think if my phone rings or dings one more time, I will be forced to throw it off my balcony. The only solution to this feeling of absolute desperation is to drive away to a place where I can't see any other people. It's only a 10 minute drive to my favorite park, where I can't see people, buildings, or cars, and it smells like trees instead of cigarette smoke. An hour of that and I'm usually good to go. But sometimes I have stronger impulses. I want to pack up the car and drive hours into the mountains and never come back. The more remote the location, the happier I will be. I can't say that it won't happen. Pray for Molly or she might end up being raised in the woods.

I know that someday I'm going to live in a house. It will have a big yard. I won't be able to hear my neighbors. I'll check my email once a day. My phone will ring and it will only be my sister calling to chat. No one will knock on the door while my baby is napping. Aren't any floors for me to sweep, not in my castle on a cloud. Haha.

But really, I know that all stages of my life will have their frustrations, not just this apartment managing stage. And I will go outside and it will all seem okay.