Even though I have not moved an inch, I feel like I’m in a new space, head-wise. I’ve set up an old desk angled outwards to catch the full view of the living room, instead of banished to a corner, and strategically arranged and re-arranged those hot pink disc chairs even though I know that no one is going to sit in them until I decide! I’ve dusted every book on all seven bookshelves and thrown everything even remotely fabric into the washer.

Boyfriend leaving means that now my long-sleeves, short-sleeves, pants, skirts, even hooded sweatshirts, which nobody hangs up, have stretched like a kitty in the sun, extending even into the hall closet (dresses). Sister leaving means that I have put a sewing table in her room (after vacuuming, who leaves that many Doritos crumbs around the baseboard?) and can finally bust out my Christmas present.

Man, it feels good to be home!