About a year and a half ago, we were getting ready for The Big Move. It never happened. Stuff was moved around from one place to another, but we remained in what we always believed to be “home.”
Until Thursday night that is. Sleeping somewhere other than home was strange. We all stayed in one room and it was quiet. There was no television, no computer—no distraction.
It’s been a week since and I’m finally staying in “my room.” In quotations, because I can’t even imagine it as mine, really. It’s like it’s on loan still. The walls are bare save for some of my cousin’s study notes and religious posters. I’m sleeping in my bed (truly mine), but it still feels out of place.
The weekend went by quickly, but the house is now slowly feeling like… well, home.
Now, I’m waiting for space inside to free up so we can setup the oven and I can bake. Maybe that will help make me feel at home. (Well, that and probably some television and Internet. Haha, such a geek.)