Saturday, July 12, 2008

It feels like a week has passed, what with the moving and all that. Finally settled (somewhat) into the new place, which I have been reluctant and unwilling to fall in love with because a part of me - the masochistic part - wanted to believe I could be fine in a grey, gloomy, furniture-less place.

So, as I sit typing this in my living room on a cushion-covered floor sofa using the wireless internet, surrounded by two bookcases of real books, it just means I've told that part of me to shut up.

I think I never realised the importance of living space. I've been holed up in hostels, guestrooms, and the room in my previous house (although we did have some furniture at some point, the living room never assumed its real purpose). It is a strange and rather illusory luxury of choice, to be able to choose where to sit, to have a space other than your bed on which to stretch your legs and chill out.

But the most important thing, is that this is a place that I don't dread coming back to.


Tym said...

Yes, it's nice having a leetle bit of choice, especially in a small place.

Er ... maybe this means you are properly an adult now ;)