home sweet home

I never really thought much about the concept of home until i didn't have one (isn't that usually how it goes?). I haven't slept in my own bed since June and it's taking its toll.

With visiting my family and traveling in July, i didn't really have a home this summer. And when I started work with the optimistic impression that i would be able to find an apartment within a week, i thought that would be quickly resolved.

little did i know that sleeping on my friend JuneBug's couch and living out of suitcases (two to be exact) would be a way of life for me for several weeks more. i can say that i have started getting used to it (not really. i'm just saying that to make myself feel better). granted, my clothes are always in piles squished into my suitcases, my shoes are in a shopping bag, my toiletries are in a bag in a tiny corner of the bathroom (she's my home for now!), and i have no groceries because i don't know how long i'm going to be here. but hey, at least i have a couch right?

i arrived at work one morning with the sudden revelation (i don't know why i didn't think about this before), that my coworkers actually wake up in their own beds, wearing their own pajamas, use their own bathroom where all their toiletries and towels have a home. They eat breakfast in a kitchen that is stocked with their favorite things, maybe make themselves tea and drink it in cups that they can choose from in their cabinets. they decide what shoes to wear not on the basis of which 4 pairs of shoes they have in a shopping bag, but from their full closet.

my morning usually starts with getting up from the couch and putting away the covers and pillow. then i sneak into the bathroom (it's in my friend's bedroom) without waking my friend up to take a shower. then i bring the blowdryer out into the living room (aka, my bedroom) so that i don't wake her up. then i dig into my suitcase and see what's easily accessible in the piles and whether it's wrinkled (no iron in the apt). then i think "black or brown shoes?" because i have one pair of each with me. then i head out and walk a few blocks to my car, for which i spend 20 minutes each night circling for parking.

i came to the realization of this marked difference in my morning compared to my coworkers and thought - THIS BITES. anyway, i'm over it. no, really.

fast forward a few weeks into September and my roommate and I finally find a place. The irony in this whole situation (i have to laugh - or cry - after i've spent hours on the phone with the freaking moving company) is that my movers won't be able to deliver any of my stuff until mid-October. that's SIX weeks after i placed my call - SIX WEEKS since I told them that i'm ready to take my stuff out of the movers' storage and get it delivered. SIX WEEKS. i'm laughing. i'm laughing right now.

the really sad thing is that i am really excited to have my bed (it's in hayward right now) and a closet and my own bathroom in the next week. that means i get to hang my clothes instead of scrounging around in a suitcase. that means a bed instead of a couch. that means toiletries in the cabinets instead of digging in a bag. baby steps. baby steps.

and what i dream of these days is not to see my boyfriend (who lives in chicago), because i know when i will see him next. it's not of winning the lottery or my next vacation. it's having an apartment again. it's having a haven to hide when the world gets stressful. it's having the comfort of my own things. it's having the idea of home again.

some might say that these are just material possessions and that they don't really matter. and i might have said that before too. but sometimes, after a long 11 hour work day and driving around looking for parking and recovering from a cold, it's just nice to have my bed and comforter, a warm bath, my owh kitchen and a living room i can just kick my feet up in.