A Certain Friend
I have a particular friend in my life that seems to be hard on herself. When she runs into conflict, she shuts down, and whatever plans or chores she has that day are not followed through. I have been lied to, and I do not believe what she says is true as I hear or read texts during our conversations. Being lied to hurts me very much. It puts me in a position to take a few steps back and let her calm down. I understand that she gets anxious and panicky because it happens when I run into conflict I am not ready for or have a rough/emotional start to my day; things are not going right from waking up. I find her lying to me most hurtful. Is she a habitual liar? I don’t know, but the past few weeks have made me feel that is possible.
I do not feel I have made a mistake taking my friend under my wing, but my emotional and physical health always comes first. I will help her, not because she will help me; we will have moments that we will not agree. We have the right to approve or disagree. I will not put up with her mood swings (tantrums) because she becomes snotty. She has a mean streak in her when she is snotty; she gets herself in a bind she does not take responsibility for her actions. My friend is Gardenforty-three years old.
Garden Court Life
My life at Garden Court is incredible. I love it here. Let me describe the inside of the building—at least the ground floor. There is the front door with the manager’s office to your left. There are a few apartments down hallways, and one of them happens to be to the far left after the management office. I know there is another hallway, but I have had no reason to go down that hallway. My friend KW lives in the hallway at the far left. To the right, there is a community room for tenants and parties or gatherings. The lobby itself has a grand piano and couches and chairs for comfortable seating for tenants. To be honest, the Garden Court Apartment Complex reminds me of a hotel. The apartments on all seven floors (132 apartments) are suites with kitchens, lol. I feel I am not coming home to an apartment; I’m coming just coming home.
I live in the downtown area of the city, and I hear the city bus go by every half hour and drop other tenants off in front of the building as they come from work. I haven’t ridden the bus for years due to getting around. When I lived at Burbank Plaza Apartment Complex on the southside of town, I saw the decline of the building, the kindness of the tenants, and when DKF and I were treated with disrespect by a tenant’s ex-husband. She went along with him, I decided to find a new place, and Garden Court was it since River Flats Apartments were not getting back to me when I called. I wanted to get out of my area and get to a place with more civilization and what I called home ten years ago while visiting KW and JW overnight.
There is a smoking section in the back of the building. Every morning I see tenants (smokers) when I wait for my rides to and from dialysis. I do not smoke myself because I think it is disgusting. My grandparents and great aunts on Grandma Fox’s side smoked when I was younger, and I was glad they stopped smoking in the late 1980s. My heart is sad seeing people smoke.