The Writing on the…Ceiling.

The apartment complex I live in is a piece of shit, to put it politely. The maintenance men are very nice people and I am sure that they are doing the best with what they are given, but since we moved in over a year and a half ago our ceiling has leaked. After at least one complaint a month about the leak in my ceiling or my window frame nothing has been done. They keep telling us the apartments need a new roof, but it isn’t getting done, I guess? They are providing us with quick fixes that don’t last through more than two southern rain storms.
Recently, a huge water mark has formed in the ceiling, there isn’t any leaking, but you can visibly see where large pools of water gather just above the surface. After another complaint last week, we were told they were really going to fix the problem this time, but a week later (today) there was a lot of rain and the spot grew larger. In addition to the leaking ceiling, our smoke alarm always goes off because there is no actual ventilation system in the kitchen, and there are always at least 2 laundry machines of the 3 not working. This may sound like whining, but it is so stressful to be out of the apartment when it’s raining, because I am never sure if I am going to go home to a ruined apartment. You may ask, “Why the hell do you still live there?” And the answer is, we have chosen to stay in these apartments for so long, because they are the cheapest option for our downtown area and in the best location for our jobs.
Anyways, coming home to a larger water stain tonight has really lit a fire under my ass. Our plan has been to travel around for a little while before we settle in one place and have children. We had been researching our next destination and trying to figure out how to fit that into our lives while planning around our wedding. Lately, my passion has drifted to something way different than I would have expected to love. I have become so interested in started a farm and garden with heritage pigs and chickens and making that my life. Chase got me a book on raising pigs for Christmas and I have been so excited to read and start researching that kind of a life and the things I need to do and learn to get there.
My struggle right now is whether or not I am ready to shift dreams. Should we suffer through the next couple months of our lease here and move back to get married while house/farm hunting to dive into what we want to do? Or, should we stick with our original plan and move to the next destination? Part of me feels like moving home to really save for our future goals of a farm would be like letting everyone down, because we had spoken so much about our big plans to move everywhere and experience everything. But lately, Chase has been stressed at work to the point that he is beginning to lose passion for food and being in the kitchen which is breaking my heart. I’ve become tired of my routine here, as well as missing my family. I love the family and life we have built for ourselves in Charleston, but I am having a very difficult time comprehending that this chapter of our lives should end soon.
How does one make the decision to shift gears and go in a completely different direction when they had been so sure of what they wanted before? I shouldn’t really make any drastic decisions while under the influence of fury from apartment’s incompetence. But the whole situation has made me put things in perspective. What am I doing in these apartments still and what is my end game in Charleston? What is future plan here, Briana?! Maybe moving closing to my family again and pursuing the farm is the best idea for us if that is really what we want to do? Why not, right?
I just never want to move back home and get stuck in a cycle that most people from our town fall into. He will stereotypically begin working at the town’s chemical plant to save money and I will get whatever quick job I can to save money and we will get pregnant and comfortable and never leave. I am too pessimistic. 2015 so far has been all about hating everything; it isn’t a good look on me.

I am thinking too much, goodnight.