(the new) room

The title is so foreboding to me because it reminds me of that book by Ellen Donoghue, Room, which is about such a horrific subject and is based off of a real-life horrifying case about enslavement and abuse. I put “the new” in brackets to get away from the title of the book, which probably sounds really paranoid. But I digress.

My parents put together a new room while I was at work again the other day, and it looks like someone else’s space. The biggest thing is that there’s a whole lot of empty wall space now everywhere—compared to my previous setup, it’s like SPACE FOR DAYZ, MAN. On the plus side, that means I can finally hang up all those paintings and prints I’ve collected. But there’s also a lot of negative air space, which I guess I’m not used to since my old loft bed maximized all the space in my room. I’ll just have to adapt to that, I guess. And adapt to sleeping about two feet off the floor as opposed to sleeping about two feet away from the ceiling.

I’m very resistant to most kinds of change. I guess I just like consistency in life, and I don’t like it when things change without my prior knowledge. It’s nice to prepare for something so you’re in the right mindset for it, but maybe I’ve gotten so dependent on that kind of thinking that my ability to deal when I can’t know about something beforehand has basically diminished into nothing. If a movie gets really intense, I’ll want to look up the ending on Wikipedia so I know how it all turns out—I don’t want to have to worry about what will happen to the characters or if the good ones will win or if the bad guys will succeed. I like to know what my family’s having for dinner when it’s only lunchtime so I can plan my portions and what parts I want to eat. I schedule all my exams and assignments and allocate all my free time into carefully constructed agendas and itemize every task. Because of all this itemizing, I never ever ever miss deadlines, but I’m also a little too particular about getting things done in a specific order. And if something isn’t time-specific, I tend to put it off forever until I get a deadline for it.

Regardless of all my weird tendencies, the bottom line is that I don’t like sudden unforeseen change and the destruction of my old bedroom was something of that variety. That’s probably why I felt so strongly about it. It looks a bit better now that a new bed frame is in place and my desk has been reconstructed, but there’s still a lot of mess on the floor by my closet. I’ve gotta clean all that up, vacuum, and start filling in the blank spaces above my bed and along the walls. Then, maybe, it’ll start to feel like my own place again.

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Victoria

Writes words mostly on the go. Lentils are life.

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