It's my first night in the house my husband and I just bought. It stormed violently outside all evening while we sorted and cleaned and came up with something for dinner. Now it's late, all is quiet, and I'm awake, a stranger in a new home…
The first night is when you really meet the house, it seems. Until now, you've always encountered the structure in its Sunday best, all dolled up to impress. It's on this first night that you note the differences between this place and your last:
The toilet runs long, making you hold your breath in hopes it will stop. It does, just a few seconds later than you have come to expect. Elusive light switches trip you up as you enter rooms. Right side, left side? Which was it again? A vertigo sort of takes over, your body unable to intuit north from south. It's a trying night - the first one - where each small action is preceded by slow readjustment.
A clumsy encounter, the first night soon rolls into two, ten, a thousand and somewhere in between - you are home.
Has anyone else recently moved into a new home? Have similar feelings to share about feeling so outside of yourself in awkward surroundings? Please share below - we would love to hear we're not the only ones who go through this love/hate process of making "this place" into "home".
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(Image: Flickr member vauvau, licensed for use by Creative Commons)