Kess moved out of home today, to move in with her boy. I’m pleased for her. And I hope it works well.
Of course, her situation (being slightly parallel to my own) has provoked several interesting conversations between myself and my mother. It seems that her only real objection to them living together (the religious issues aside) is their lack of a receipt. (Marriage certificate. Long story.)
How people surprise you.
Of course, this led to a vastly entertaining conversation with Tobermorey, wherein we danced around the topic of “What if this actually works?”, general thoughts about “Yes, but will your mother hate me?”, and similar things.
Of course, it all boils down to “I don’t really know”. But… I’m starting to think that, so long as I am happy, Mum will learn to deal with it. I can only hope so..
I spent a portion of my day plotting to meet various people at various homes this weekend, with the intention of seeing if I can see myself living there. I’m sure I shouldn’t be nervous about this (after all, what’s the worst that could happen?) but I am.
On the plus side of this, I have found a reasonably large number of houses that will allow me to have a catling or two. Seeing as I desperately want at least one catling, possibly two, this is important. Most of the places I’m looking at have two bedrooms (which will be my bedroom and my computer room), although some have three. I don’t know what I’d do with a third room, to be honest, but I’m sure I could find a use.
Maybe it’s just me. But the image of me wandering in the door at the end of the day, to my home – my own, which I pay for, which I control – saying “hello brats” to the catlings, wandering around managing my life my way – it’s very appealing, this little mental picture.
After all, I am 22. It’s about time I learned to live alone, learned to be responsible, took some control of where I’m going. And being alone doesn’t scare me. I like people, sure. But I also like my own space, and I’m not afraid of my own company.