One Room

I've been living in one room for five months now. It's about 13 X 13. Of course, I grew up this way. I was the only girl and always had my own space. But being 5, or 15, is different from 35 and living in one space. When we're kids, we venture out. We watch (or at least I used to) television with our parents. And we were a traditional family that always ate together at the dinner table by five o'clock.

I feel bad a lot, because I'm very anti-social here. I'm staying with my paternal grandmother, and not taking advantage of the time I could be spending with her. Maybe someday I will feel guilty about this, I don't know. There's just something in me that stops me, and I imprison myself in here every day.

So what do I do in this room? I come home after the gym, and I sit down on my bed. I sometimes have my meals in here. I read in here, search online, update my IPod, and watch TV. I do my nails, and think and think. It's not always good. I feel like when I have my own space again, I will fly through the house, the openness, and feel a new freedom. I think often of places I've lived in over the past few years. Some were good, some not so good. It's given me a wisdom about landlords and windows in the winter.

One of the biggest things I miss is having a kitchen. Women are MEANT to have their own kitchens. I am convinced of this. It doesn't matter if we eat cheese and crackers for dinner over the sink, or cook an eight course meal. I miss buying fruits and fresh veggies for the fridge, and having twenty different bottles of beer waiting for me to try.

When I first moved in, I considered buying a dorm fridge to keep in my room. But it's already so cluttered, I just couldn't do it. I know my limits. I think when I leave here, I will be determined to never eat in the bedroom again. And I'll spend a lot of time in every part of my house.