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| Juice made with spinach, bananas, and ambiguous fruits prepared by my super star of a dad |
I approach this new adventure cautiously. It will be very easy to tip over the edge into an abyss of reliving my post-adolescence. Being stranded from a city, I adore, is hardly ideal.
However, the "comforts of home" are not to be discounted. In fact, focusing on these trifles will be vital to my survival in this suburban tundra of death. I have highlighted 3 in particular that I do not discount as insignificant.
Firstly, oh my god, the space! I had been living in a studio for the past two years, which maybe had three rooms if you counted my closet. Here, I have a room that might be the size of what my studio was. I can cook, eat, watch TV, study, and sleep all in a different room. It's INSANE! I can't believe I used to live like this.
In fact, I remember when I came back from college that first summer after my freshman year (which was nothing like this, by the way, because it was temporary. This is somewhat permanent in the matter that I don't have a set in stone end date other than the self chosen August 1, 2016), I felt like it had shrunk, and that I was so large. It felt like a place I had never been to before. I was still happy about the space, but I had been away for a measly 9 months - my small dorm hadn't tainted me yet.
I haven't managed to fully unpack yet, but the sheer amount of options of where I can put all my stuff... mindboggling.
Secondly, my bed.
Okay, so its not my bed. I had taken my bed - my super comfortable, amazing bed - to school with me. During that time, my parents had decided that there even more comfortable king-sized bed wasn't groovy enough for them so they got themselves a sleep number and moved their old bed into my room. MY bed, as of now, resides in the garage until it is driven up to its new home in the house my parents bought up in Michigan whose furniture, up until now, has consisted of two folding chairs and an air mattress.
And I swear I google searched this until my fingers bled, because there is a children's book that explains exactly how I feel, and I cannot remember the name. Anyway, it's about a little girl who has a small crib with all of her stuffed animals when she gets upgraded to a huge bed. She feels alone in it so she stuffs it with stuffed animals until its so full, there is no room for her! (If you know the name of this book, please let me know).
This bed is huge and soft and daunting and thrilling. I'm still kind of scared of it, but I'll keep you posted.
I saved the best for last, but easily the best thing about being home is THE FOOD.
Every morning my dad juices and makes my mom and me oatmeal. And every dinner is fully balanced and delicious. It's way better than my sporadic healthy food prep interspersed with lazy mac and cheese and Chinese food.
If I can continue to find advantages to being home, perhaps I can make it through the next 397 days.
That's all for now,
Little Tornado
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