Laying Awake at 3 am

When I'm laying awake in our big comfy bed in my nice clean neighbourhood in my nice multicultural city...

I never think about Korea.

I never think about the monsoon rains that pounded on our double front door, soiling my favorite high heels that I never wore.

I never think about the tacky 70's furniture that we rearranged in the tiny dusty livingroom, so that we could eat potato and corn-covered pizza, with pickles, on the green triangular coffee table.

I don't remember the fake wood linoleum kitchen floor or the maggots that infested our garbage one hot summer day, or the tiny fridge or the medicine care package on top of it that my mom sent.

And it definitely never crosses my mind what happened to the food I left in the cupboards.. what was it again? Hmm some Aloe Vera drinks, noodles, condiments and oatmeal?

Far away are the odd cockroach or two, the painted green rooftop where I had a picnic with some wine, pasta and a few friends as the sun set and the neon advertising lights for my school glowed a few blocks away.

I'd have to be really bored for my mind to wander to the freezing cold bathroom that always smelled like mildew and clogged drain. That drain was disgusting. Oh, and how the washing machine would empty its watery guts onto the bathroom floor and the garbage can would float circles around the drain (sometimes clockwise, sometimes counterclockwise; it doesn't matter what side of the equator you're on!)

And in the unused TV room, where we'd hang our laundry on a large rack because they don't use dryers in Korea.. I'd poke my head out the window at night and watch the endless stream of navy-uniformed schoolboys walk home, in clusters of two or three, cellphone lights glinting like the odd angler fish caught amongst carp.

Coming home at 6 am on a Sunday morning when the birds chirped and a layer of haze hugged the city; it was the only time of the week I ever heard peace and quiet.

Otherwise, the loud speakers blaring from merchant trucks echoed in the narrow sidestreets from sunrise to well after dusk.

I don't think I'd wonder about the dirty white Coach wallet I left in the drawer by my bed, because I have another, nicer one now.

That lady that barged into the house trying to sell me milk on a pre-ordered monthly schedule may be worth a laugh or two..

I hardly think of these things when I'm laying in bed at 3 am and my mind is preoccupied with final assignments, work and skiing.