Homesick

I hadn’t realized how much I missed being at my own place, until today.
I was doing house chores, getting ready for another crazy week, when it struck me. It was a funny feeling of happiness, mixed with a satisfaction of being at home.

I really hadn’t stopped to think of the time I spend away from my apartment, my cozy pad. Four days a week, I’m at my parent’s because of they live conveniently close to university. So after work, I take off and head for my hometown.

It’s not that I don’t like being back with my parents: God knows how I adore to come home to my family, find a hot meal on the table with a note for me. It’s very nice. On the other hand, I absolutely love to have my own space. I’m not only talking about physical space, but the freedom to do things at my pace.

There’s something about being surrounded by your own stuff, that’s enchanting. And comfortable too, having everything at reach. Those who know me, have seen me often, carrying bags full of stuff that I refuse to leave at home, because I feel sooner or later I will use. And due to the fact that I’m living between my parent’s and my flat in Capital Federal, it’s almost impossible not to have extra baggage. Thus my back aches sometimes, but I don’t complain… I’d hate to suddenly need something and realize I don’t have it with me.

I really wish I could finish university soon, so I can have the kind of life I’ve always wanted. Return to my place, do things for the house, cook “real dinners”… I suppose I’ll have to wait.

It’s amazing how time seems to run short when you have a huge list of ToDo’s.

So you see… in the end, it all comes down to time. Evil time.