Got another job. I’m sure I’d sound more enthusiastic if I didn’t have the weight of weariness sitting snuggly in my soul. Actually, it is a good one that may allow me to move out into a place of my own. You know, since I’m a big girl and all.
Unfortunately, there is the great vast ugly part of me that just wants time. So, now we get to delve into the age old imbalance of time and space. Which is more important? Both for writing, so I have to give up one or the other anyway. But for psyche? Well. I’m clearly leaning towards space. Space.
If you don’t really know me, then let me explain. Space is my thing. Even when I was in what you people call total love and in a relationship that seemed, well, I want to say complacent now but I’ll be generous and say good, I needed space. My darling artist ex occupied a ton of space even in a 3-bedroom house. For me, that was the most difficult part of the relationship. Each one of us trying to carve out who we were with a limited square footage. I guess for him it was more of a problem of fidelity. Oh well, the knowledge of love is never ending.
And now, sure, I have wonderful flat mates. Umbi and Lexie make me feel fine and they are both a joy to be around. But there is more to me than that. I want to stroll around in my undies. I want to take a bath with the door open. I really, really want to not have to worry about sleeping too late and missing my chance for the bath.
So what do I do? I’m making enough now so that I may be able to afford a place of my own. BUT do I stay here and try to make it until August, get legit, and then come back and get a place?
Advice needed. I’m needy. And yes, I miss my friends.
By the way, this is an important weekend for several people. Me included. So, for those of you passing through and realizing things about your life, know I’m thinking about you. And Mendy, happy birthday.