Building #3

Two years ago this month I moved into my cozy little apartment with a home office ready to take on the legal world. When I'm not on the road, I can be found here, plugging away on my computer and trying to keep my dog from barking while I'm on the phone with clients. I'm usually hunkered down for most of the day, the majority of nights and an occasional weekend.

Perhaps I would be more productive if I was not distracted by getting my laundry done, or cleaning my kitchen, or oh wait, my dog really needs a walk right now, and dang it I must run to the grocery store pronto. Or perhaps if I kept my suit on for the remainder of the day, instead of changing into jeans and flip flops the second I got home. Either way, I get the job done eventually. 

Although sometimes I need extra motivation.

But working from home proves interesting in other areas as well. I'm starting to become more intimate with the happenings in Building #3 and the complex as a whole.

The most intimate happening would be the relations between Back Wall Neighbor and myself. I'm going to spare the details for now (I know, the juiciest part and I'm not spilling it). Let's just say that after two years of bumping into each other, while walking our dogs mostly, I finally took the commandment to "love thy neighbor" to heart. We went out. Saw each other a few more times after that. It was great. Really great actually. But for now (again I'm sparing a lot of details here) we are trying to go back to just being neighbors. Which we all know will not work and makes this unique situation that much harder. Especially when you can't help but hope that any moment he'll walk by. (Confession: I may or may not be sitting on my newly furnished patio as I type this - but hey the weather is beautiful this evening).

If Back Wall Neighbor doesn't come to his senses, I might have a chance with Across the Hall Neighbor. He appears to be a newly divorced, nice, middle-aged man. He's lived across the hall from me since August but aside from distant waves we had never spoken until last week. I was walking towards my apartment and he was getting out of his car. I picked up my pace as it was night and I live alone and I don't like to open my apartment door when there are people walking behind me. He apparently was picking up his pace too because he wanted to talk to me. He caught up with me at our landing, gave me his name, and shook my hand. This past Sunday as I'm trying to get my dog to pee! pee! pee! as I was late for church, I hear a "Good Morning Becki" with the pungent smell of cigar smoke wafting down from the balcony above me. Oh no, I think. But hey, at least I may have options.

But then, there's always the pilot who lives in the back of the complex. The one that drunkenly tells me he hasn't seen me in awhile and has been thinking about me. The one that soberly makes his friend slow down the car so he can roll down the window and chat with me for a bit.

Anyway.

Today, as I continue to struggle with the whole love your neighbor battle, I make a quick run to the grocery store. As I leave my apartment I run into a former student of mine. I taught 7th grade but this man is definitely not 13. He is not only taller and bigger than me, he is now a functioning adult living on his own. Gee, I feel old. And gee, isn't this awkward. I try to avoid eye contact (we've almost run into each other before) as I try to console myself that he won't recognize me. My policy with former students has always been: if they acknowledge you, acknowledge them, but if they don't, let them be.

Last year, I had a former student of mine living next door. These were different circumstances as our brothers were friends and we belonged to the same church. While I still felt old, it was fun having a neighbor I knew so well and one I could count on to pick up my mail when I was gone for a week. Don't worry, I took her shotgun shooting in return.

After making my quick run to the store (and after a mishap with the orange display - it wasn't me! they just collectively decided to take a dive - all 10 of them), I return to my complex to find more romance awaits in Building #3. Only it doesn't involve me. Humph.

There is a lovers' quarrel in Spanish. I pretend I don't understand, but their Spanish is really clear and I actually do get bits and phrases. They aren't happy with each other - that's clear. They were arguing when I left.

The other couple is lingering in the parking lot saying a slow and affectionate goodbye before I lose them behind an SUV. They're probably smooching. Then the man walks wistfully up the stairs.

It must be spring.

So here I sit and here I've sat for the past hour on a patio in Building #3. No neighborly sightings of any kind. Well, except for the German Shepherd and his married owner (who suspiciously looks like he goes to my church, hmm). Perhaps that's it for the daily digest of As the Complex Turns. But then, there's always that nightly walk just before bedtime when my dog has to go out one last time....until then....that's all from Building #3.

P.S. For fans of Mr. Hotel Clerk:

I have seen Mr. HC twice since my post about him but unfortunately thoughts of Back Wall Neighbor kept me from pursuing anything further with him. Well, that and the fact that I couldn't get over our age gap. I'm pretty sure he came to the same conclusion I did. Sorry to disappoint, but thanks for the support.