Unlocking and opening the door to someone else’s living space. I did that a few hours ago. Then took stock of the fridge’s contents and ran up (meaning, drove up) to the nearby grosh (meaning grocery store) to purchase a few edibles. Have returned, edibles in tow.

I will be housesitting for the next little while (meaning week or so), which requires me to inhabit someone else’s space. Feels weird. Different than renting a hotel or staying at a weekend cottage where turnover is high and no one leaves permanent pillow impressions.

Space.

I haven’t had much of late. Room that is. of my own. Space to stretch. Even burp without being heard by roommates or partner or anyone else.

Space.

To feel the changes in my life. To feel my life. To assess where I am today.

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