Growing up, I’ve always had my own space. I never had to share a room with my younger brother of eight years, except once: my grandmother lived with us for a short time when I was thirteen. Now I’m twenty-two and considered a legal adult across the entire world (both cool and terrifying). I’ve spent majority of my last three years of life living in what could be considered a small studio apartment (hey dorm room hey!) and fending for myself. I’m decently versed in being on my own (not lonely. that’s a different story).
The past two weeks have tested my patience more than I expected, this sharing of small spaces with two other adults and a teenager. I’ve always known that I value my personal time, but I didn’t know how important it really was.
Finding space in the day just for myself is such a good recharge! Even just a small room to myself offers plenty of space to let my guard down and relax. Today we checked out of the hotel and moved what little we have into the new house. We’re all camped out on air mattresses and we all have our own little spaces. I HAVE THE DOOR TO MY ROOM CLOSED! I can’t describe how nice it feels even though it’s camping for dummies.
Even though the workers were supposed to be done with the inside of the house today, it still feels like a pretty good way to end the day. I’m hoping to wake up and not be high from all the paint fumes lingering around the house!