home coming
As I walk to my huge student flat, I feel a bit thrilled. I'll be there alone, for the first time in 6 months.
I'd expected to get more mail in those two weeks, it's kind of disappointing. The first thing I notice as I step into the room are the Christmas decorations on the window. I need to get those off. The floor is dirty: apparently I did not care to vacuum before I left. No warm welcome for me. Actually, it's kind of chilly so I quickly turn on the heatening system.
Just when I think nothing has changed, I walk towards my computer and accidentally brush against the Christmas tree. A rain of needles falls down onto the ground. It's only then that I notice the already large heap under the tree. I suppose I need to get the tree out too. I can already imagine the looks on the faces of my house mates when I pull a nearly dead tree down into the elevator (in february!). Even the water plant is sulking so I change its water, silently praying for its revival. Poor Varia.
After dinner I put my bed together again: there's only one of us now so there's no need to sleep on two matrasses on the ground. I also clean the shower drain: I haven't bothered getting out hairs and stuff since I started living here (about a year ago) so needless to say it was really gross. Still, I always feel better when I've cleaned nasty things. As if I've accomplished something extraordinary.
When that's done I look around, wondering what to do now. Feeling bored with myself already, I turn on the computer. Moving out is so not exciting as it seems.
I'd expected to get more mail in those two weeks, it's kind of disappointing. The first thing I notice as I step into the room are the Christmas decorations on the window. I need to get those off. The floor is dirty: apparently I did not care to vacuum before I left. No warm welcome for me. Actually, it's kind of chilly so I quickly turn on the heatening system.
Just when I think nothing has changed, I walk towards my computer and accidentally brush against the Christmas tree. A rain of needles falls down onto the ground. It's only then that I notice the already large heap under the tree. I suppose I need to get the tree out too. I can already imagine the looks on the faces of my house mates when I pull a nearly dead tree down into the elevator (in february!). Even the water plant is sulking so I change its water, silently praying for its revival. Poor Varia.
After dinner I put my bed together again: there's only one of us now so there's no need to sleep on two matrasses on the ground. I also clean the shower drain: I haven't bothered getting out hairs and stuff since I started living here (about a year ago) so needless to say it was really gross. Still, I always feel better when I've cleaned nasty things. As if I've accomplished something extraordinary.
When that's done I look around, wondering what to do now. Feeling bored with myself already, I turn on the computer. Moving out is so not exciting as it seems.