Zuhause

Every day which is born into this world comes like a burst of music, and sings itself all day through. And thou shalt make of it a dance, a dirge, or a life march, as thou wilt. - T. Carlyle

All right, that might be a little dramatic, but I like it! I have been feeling super introspective lately, mostly because working from home means I spend 90% of my time alone. I like it, to an extent, but I have also found it necessary to set up one social event per day, lest I go completely batty without even noticing until it's too late. Yesterday that included going to Lindsay's house, walking her dogs, eating a hugely disgusting, yet delicious Hot City sandwich (there was butter AND Italian dressing...), and taking a nap in her living room. That's right, we took a nap! I think your true friends are the ones who encourage you to drool on their furniture.

I miss West Virginia(ns), but not Boston, really. As nice as the people I know there are, I feel a hundred times more at home here. Speaking of "home," I've developed a new, and possibly disturbing interest; house envy. One J-Term, Lindsay and I spent weeks visiting all the animal shelters and pet adoption days in St. Paul and Minneapolis (see: Ella, Nick). I was supposed to be helping her get a dog, and I ended up with my SWEET DARLING kitty! Now, I've moved on to drooling over cute houses (I ran by one yesterday and almost ran into a light post, because I was gaping at the adorable garage.... GARAGE). I don't know where my sudden house obsession came from, but I have two theories.

Theory 1) Studio fatigue and housesitting: As the faithful readers among you know, I've been living in what some have generously termed my "walk-in-closet" for close to a year. Even though it's really not that bad, and quite reasonably priced(!), it's definitely a different style of living when there is zero separation between any of your living spaces. I mean, there is a door to the bathroom, but...no. By contrast, I am living right now in a house with 3 bedrooms, a loft, a formal dining room, a huge living room and a screened in porch. Plus a backyard. Perhaps this contrast has caused my body to go into utter shock at the luxury, and decide that it needs one of these for itself. Immediately.

Theory 2) Quarterlife/nesting/stability/decorating crisis: (this is the real problem, I think) I am pretty sure much of my fantasizing comes from the last 5 years of WV-MN-Germany-Austria-MN-DC-WV-Boston-MN hopping, my upcoming quarter century birthday, and some weird manifestation of that (are you with me ladies) ovarian/uterus/hormonal crisis about having babies, trellises, herb gardens, etc. I don't know if that made any sense. Also, I think I'm prematurely old, because are normal 24-year olds fantasizing about buying houses and having trellises? I guess we all know I'm not that normal. (To the tune of "Not That Innocent").

The good thing is that unlike getting a cat, I have no real income, and thus no way to "accidentally" come home with a mortgage. Phew. Thanks credit industry, for saving me from myself!