stuff

Last weekend my family was kind enough to help me out by driving me and some of my belongings from home back to NYC. Now that I have my own room I could decide what stuff I wanted  to have in it. Stuff like my queen sized bed, my sewing machine, my record player, and my dress form. Stuff that to some, sounds trivial or unnecessary or not worth dragging across the state of New York. But drag we did and over the last week it’s been a daily task of mine to get things organized and in their proper place. Sometimes I think things should look one way and the next day I’ve changed my mind entirely. Naturally.

Looking around my room as I type this now I see all my stuff. The stuff that made the cut. And I realize, it’s not just stuff. It’s who I am. Right now. It’s the things I’ve specifically chosen to speak on my behalf. It’s crafty and quirky and a little vintage. It’s everything I could want my room to be for the gal I am right now and the joy that brings me is slightly indescribable. Ya know, you don’t realize how important having your own little space is until you sleep in a lofted bed above your best friend for a period of time. It’s a real eye opener.

So, after a year and a half of living in this city, the last piece to the puzzle is in place. MY stuff. Some of the things that make me feel my most me. I can officially stake my claim on a little chunk of this town and really feel like it’s my own.

And it feels fabulous.

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