huit (not weet)

Home is where the heart is. 

Such an old saying used repeatedly in many different situations. Yet it is still powerful and also very true. Home is where the heart is. I wonder where is mine. My home, my heart. This new year has me thinking as I came back to England in a house full of stuff that I don't own, that I don't even really like and that I would change, exchange, arrange (tick as you go) if it was actually my home. Renting a room in a house can have that effect on people. I am surprised not to have realized it before. I long to have my own little flat. I don't have to own it per se but at least, decorate it as I wish and put things in it that makes it a home. 

Know what I mean? 

For now, I am considering the option of maybe moving out of my rented room and rent a whole flat by myself. (freaky, exciting thought)

OR

I am also thinking of just closing my eyes on awful taste & endure it for the next six months of my training here & then find something for myself when I know I can stay a bit longer where I will work.

I am really looking forward to having my space. I already know what I want to buy! A huge bookcase. Storage space especially for my colour-coded folders. Because yes, when you're a teacher, you are bound to piled up stuff from work into your house. Something that my landlady -bless her- didn't think about.

There you go, little frustration - you should see the sight of my desk. 

Appalling. 

Oh well.

One day, bookcase, you will be mine.