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Friday, December 27, 2013

First-World Domestic Likes and Dislikes

There are two things that I don’t like about my new digs.  The lesser of the minor: the kitchen cabinets don’t go all the way to the ceiling, but stop about 10 inches below.  Who ever thought this was a good idea?  It’s a safe haven for dust bunnies, a total waste of useful space.  This is not my mom’s fault (she believes in comprehensive cabinetry) but the contractors who built the place.  The major of the minor: I actually have enough stuff to fill up the whole house.  No kidding.  I cannot believe I shoehorned all this crap into a tiny apartment.  I am up to my eyeballs in art supplies (many of which I plan to list on eBay once I get in-house internet access), and blessed with books.  Most of the latter are irreplaceable, and not the sorts of things one can get on Kindle.  And yes, I do read them.  It is a pleasure being able to have a lot of them out on shelves again, though one of my large bookcases committed suicide on the trip to Georgia (my mother hopefully suggested gluing it back together, but closer inspection has proven it unglueable).  I put all my children’s books in their own bookcase, and have enjoyed flipping through them—proving that yes, I do retain the aesthetic, intellectual and emotional maturity of a six-year-old.

My favorite things about my new house (it is so plush! My brother observed, “This is the most well-appointed house for any unemployed person on the planet.”): being able to sit on the bathroom counters with my feet in the sink (the bliss of observing one’s facial pores close-up, and the horror of scrutinizing the grey in one’s hair and one’s unfeminine profusion of chin-whiskers from just an inch away), and having space for all my art supplies (be they ever so numerous).  I am five minutes from four grocery stores, five consignment shops (including one exclusively for jewelry) and a Post Office with a 24-hour automatic postal center.  And, also, just five minutes from a 24-hour gym with wi-fi. 

Now to find a job.

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