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Every day I wake up and want to cry.  I’ve slowly come to the realization that Washington is not the place for me.  Going on vacation last week just made that point even sharper in my mind.  I was so happy on vacation, even when (mentally) arguing with Figment’s brother for being overly rushy all the time.  (The hilarious part is, he is the pokiest member of the family!)  Even the annoying things weren’t particularly annoying to me.

DC is nothing like the courteous deep south in which I grew up.  There, people hold doors for you and say please and thank you.  If you run into someone, or accidentally cut them off on the sidewalk, you say excuse me.  Here, not so much.  I can’t remember the last time someone held the door for me when I was coming out right behind them or said thank you when I did so for them.  I can’t remember the last time someone said excuse me when they ran into me or stepped on me or whacked me with their bag while on the train.

Yesterday, a woman at work went out of her way to bitch at me.  Why?  Well first off, I’m going to get ulcers by the time I’m 40 because I’m so mean.  What!?  I keep myself to myself at work, and I hardly ever talk to anyone because I have things to do instead of wandering around bothering people all day.  Oh, well that’s what she meant.  I don’t talk to anyone.  I got a lot of “life’s too short” and several other variations on that theme.  It’s like those people on the street that tell you to smile.  You don’t know me and you don’t know what’s going on in my life or what I may be going through so you don’t have the right to comment on my actions.  I ignored it because I still have 55 days left here and I don’t want them to be any worse than they already are, but I just couldn’t get over the nerve of her!

I feel like this is my life every day here.  I can’t get over the stereotypical “Yankee” attitude of people in this city.  I love this place for all it offers, the opportunities to try new things and the museums and the multitude of food varieties, but I just can’t go on living here forever.  It’s slowly killing my soul and I don’t necessarily like the person I have become in order to shield myself from this nonsense.  I’m trying really hard to just keep remembering my time here is almost over, but it’s only getting harder to wake up in the morning and get to work.


Posted on May 25, 2011, in Personal Reflections. Bookmark the permalink. 2 Comments.

  1. I’m so sorry to hear you’re having a rough time there! 55 days should hopefully pass real quickly for you. :)

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