Washington DC still feels a lot different than the comfortable rural-suburban atmosphere of back home in Oregon. Though I like to have the window in my stuffy room open at night, sometimes I have to leave it closed due to my intolerance of the rumbling, siren-filled cityscape outside my window. I am thankful to face the secluded garden of TMH, so occasionally I do hear the desperate chirping of birds, but rarely do I get any sound serenity (without earplugs, at least).
Living in a city and in a boarding house also precludes me from one of my favorite pastimes, cooking. Sometimes, usually when I’m hungry, I will just long to be stationed over the oven, frying up onions and garlic. I of course am not complaining about my all-inclusive quarters, but cooking is one of the those things that you don’t know you really miss until you’re not doing it anymore. My trips to the grocery store seem curt and directive while shopping in the city. With cramped and shared fridge space and no kitchen utilities expect a microwave, I no longer have the freedom of spontaneous purchases or experimental dishes. I buy by what I can carry while I walk home, and that usually amounts to the standard and unimaginative loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter.
Of course, there are wonderful things about living in a city as well. No where else can you get such a variety of people and activities. There is always something new to see or do. I just wonder if I will get back home and wonder, “why is it so quiet?”