Mine

I picked up the keys for my new flat today. Afterwards I sat alone in it for a few minutes, considering the fruits of my machinations. It's strange to think that I've never lived alone before, especially given how zealously I guard my privacy, space and time. My excuses for not doing it sooner were largely fiscal in nature, which worries me now I think about it. I dislike that money, or worries concerning it, should exert such a large influence on my life. I realise (and perhaps accept) that money is an evil inherent in the society in which I choose to live, but I suppose, at heart, I'm still hoping to find a better way.

Anyway, the flat is not home and I refuse to call it such - there's some truth to be found in the old adage of homes and hearts, and I've yet to decide where my heart doth lie. For the moment I content myself with the realisation that it's not here. But I now have a place of my own and it's mine. It's naturally a little spartan, since I've yet to move any of my possessions into it (that comes tomorrow - it's going to be a long day...), but sitting there on my bed I realised I was happy. Happy to be there and content with my new lot. I'd feared the flat would appear even smaller in real life than I'd been imagining it for the past few weeks, but no, it was just as I'd recalled. Small, but just right, somehow. Or just enough.

I've been unable to have a phone line installed yet, due to a few minor - though thoroughly irritating - annoyances with the lettings agency, but I hope to have things sorted out early next week. Until then however, my blog postings may be a little sporadic.

Promise you'll miss me.