I spent the vast majority of my weekend ensconced in my apartment in an attempt to make it feel more like home. I've come to terms with the fact that I'm not moving any time soon and after four years there, I should probably feel comfortable/happy.
Dad and Uncle Gerry brought over two six-feet-tall bookcases which I had set up with books/DVD and various tchotchkes that were previously packed away in boxes that cluttered my already tiny living space. With the addition of the bookcases though, and the subtraction of the boxes coupled with a shuffle of furniture in my living room, my claustrophobia-inducing apartment actually feels quite roomy and, moreover, I like spending time there.
This is all new for me.
Thanks to a few new vanilla-scented candles as well as a vanilla-scented oil diffuser air freshener, it smells wonderful... like I've just baked a cake, despite my lack of kitchen/baking/cooking prowess.
And in talking to one of my girlfriends today, It occurred to me that the holidays are just around the corner, which means I'll be able to set up some of my Christmas/winter decorations. I can't wait.
For the first time in a long time, I feel blissfully, comfortably happy. Suddenly, I love being a homebody.
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