Homeless

I opened the door to reveal a dark room with corrugated iron walls. The stacked chairs threatened to fall on me. At the very back I could make out a refridgerator and a sofa stacked on it's side. At my feet was a television and a computer monitor. Stacks and stacks of boxes.

So this is my life, then? All stuffed into a space no bigger than your average bathroom. Lucky for me I had sold my bed, there was no way it was going to all fit. I get the sense that there is alot, and that I have alot of junk, remembering that my washing machine and heaters are being loaned out to friends, and my car is parked out the front of the storage place. Then again, I don't own a house...

I found room to store a couple of last boxes and locked the door. It was kind of liberating to do that, like I was now living a slimmed-down version of my life. Surely the great Buddha realised that getting rid of your material possessions was good not to reach a higher spirituality but because moving is just such a bitch. Sometimes I fantasise about that room being nukes, obliterating all of that unnecessary stuff.

Being on opposite sides of the city from JPB got quite annoying. Besides, after *living* in the west (albeit extremely close to the city) for eight months I realise that I'm simply not a west end girl. Sure I only really spent at most two months there but it was enough to decide that I really don't need the space of a one-bedroom apartment at the moment in my life and that I would rather be where the action happens. Faced with a seven-week stint in Melbourne beginning in the next few days, it seemed like a good time to make the move; not having to pay Sydney rent for that time is a good thing!

Next on the agenda: get rid of the car...

Oh, and update my blog on a regular basis again...