Unfortunately I am back at home again. The day dawned for us to relinquish our time house-sitting by handing the keys back over to their rightful owner. And while the last few days in residence were not the finest nor brightest (a distressed roommate and tensions between her boyfriend and myself), I can’t help but yearn for its return; the good, the bad and even the ugly.
I miss waking up and finding my little sidekick by my side. Fast asleep with all four limbs erected uncomfortably in the air. I miss the early morning tip-toe dance through the bathroom and my vain attempts in keeping bare feet away from dirty splashes of water that lay annoyingly strewn on the linoleum floor. Water that no doubt bathed another then escaped the confines of the shower screen.
I even miss that lengthy crusade for balance between hot and cold water flow in the shower system.
I miss having to rewash dishes from the night before, utterly bothered by the spots of food and appalled by the oily texture. I miss tirelessly wiping down those countertops and the stark reminder of how alike I am to my mother. I miss how sickened I’d get when coming into view of that couch, how irked I’d be when seeing that throw bunched in a pool of disorder and those cushions disposed carelessly onto the hemp rug.
I miss my little corner in that house; that space I allocated to work within, seated by a large window overlooking green. I miss how organised I suddenly became and how much work I accomplished. Most of all I miss the efficiency of that schedule I created. I miss my roommate returning “home” from work; even those stale tales she’d recant of her disruptive staff. I miss cooking dinner, despite being entirely regulated by her. I miss being the Sous Chef, peeling fresh potatoes with dull peelers and chopping onions with blunt knifes. I miss the gourmet fanfare of dinner and those feasts we’d spread before us.
Feasts fit for a modern-day king.
I miss that uncomfortable leather couch and I miss being continually seated on that incommodious end while they invaded the relaxing chaise area. I miss being consumed with inspiration and working away into the dark hours of night. I miss going to sleep with my sidekick alongside me; dozing and hogging valuable real estate. I miss being there to wake her from those nightmares and I miss that she isn’t there to wake me from my own.
I will miss every second of that place but predominantly I will miss the freedom. Freedom. And now that I am at home, I find myself getting pulled back into hebetude. I feel misplaced and lost, unsure of my crystal surroundings. My energy and motivation dispersing and I am falling behind in my work. Ideas penned, now neglected.
Even writing this letter to you Maria has been quite the toil.