I live a sort of nomadic life that most college students do. You know, we move out of the parents house into the dorm, into cheaper (or fancier) apartments as our budget dictates. Some live out their entire college careers in the same place, others, like me, move from place to place due to roommate/rent/landlord problems. The same cycle repeats itself in graduate school. If you are anything like me with roots in a different country, you just keep moving wherever each step of your education takes you. I was lulled into complacency when I stayed in the same apartment for 3 years. When I decided to take up this scholarship, I uprooted myself cross-country and in a couple more months, I have to leave the new friends (and the new BF) and move back for school for a couple more months while interviewing for the next stage in my career before moving again.
One of the price one pays when one does not have a home to really call one’s own is that you don’t have the luxury of collecting. As it is, my pack-rat nature has been coerced into a tiny corner where my possessions are limited by how much I (and the numerous people I can cajole into helping me) can move. I’ve got things stored in at least 2 people’s basements. And right now, I’m sorely regretting my recent shoe purchases (in my defense, they are beautifully unique shoes…). I hate moving. I hate having to find a place to stay. The nail-biting anxiety of “oh gawd, will she/they like me? Will I like them? I hope this place is safe….hmmm…are there any rats?” is the part I hate most. Yes, won’t it be nice to stay by myself but alas! The rent! groan. The damm rent keeps increasing despite the recession looming our way.
Went into my sister’s room the other day. The girl has some beautiful books in her collection. How I ache for them. She has a book called Lady Cottingham’s faery book. I want it so bad. Alas. The keyword for now is shed. Not accumulate. But shed.