Annushka's working on a paper for her econ class and I am in this room for support. But I'm not allowed to talk. Do you think my keyboard typing is bothering her? I'm not allowed to ask. I could choose to sit downstairs and work on my knitting while watching TV, but instead I've allowed myself to be locking into the room above the garage to sit in silence while she finishes this dratted thing. I figure that since I paid a lot of money to be with her, I should be with her as much as possible. Even if there are no words. We spend a lot of time together in my "store" (room) in college, not speaking while I worked on my stories and she did reading so this is sort of tradition.
My room was called the "store" because I had a black shelve unit in my room. On the shelves, I stored my stuffed animals, books, picture frames, tea, knick-knacks, and other random things. On top of my radiator, I kept my small collection of dinosaur figurines, plus a wooded banana leaf bowl and maybe some fruit. My lotions were all lined up on my plastic, Rubbermaid dresser, and I had a plaster Bunny Plaque on the wall. (Sally still hates the Bunny Plaque. I bought it without her knowledge, she had already forbidden it's purchase) I kept my room so tidy, and grocery store like at school because I had such limited space. I am not so tidy now. I have a whole house, technically two houses, to throw my things about and not have to worry about them being thrown out or really getting in my way. I still miss the "store" though. There is something to be said for being able to live in one tiny room, with almost all of your possessions.
It makes me think I will be capable of living in a small space in Denver, then I remember the seventy pounds of Chocolate Lab that will be confined to that same space and I regain my senses. We are going to need much more than just one room.
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