Tonight I sit in my new (to me) reading chair, alone on Christmas Eve. My last post was a month ago, and what a month it’s been!
I’ve been busy, and there have been some big changes in my life. The biggest being that I’ve moved into my own place. It’s a basement suite without much sun, but it’s spacious and it’s mine and with yesterday being the shortest day of the year, there wasn’t much sunlight to let in anyway.
I’ve been living here for twelve days now, unpacking and getting settled. I’m using some of the furniture from the Super Roommates set, like the couch I got for free, and the dining set I also got for free…that’s it actually. The rest came mostly from my rooms at my mom’s and dad’s and have filled the place out perfectly, I think. I’ll miss sunshine, but it’s a pandemic and I don’t go out unless I have to anyway, so I’m not sure how much this changes.
The idea of moving out had me split. One one hand, I was terrified. Moving out in December was not ideal, moving out in a pandemic was even worse. I couldn’t invite friends or family to come and help move furniture in exchange for pizza and a good time at an impromptu party like people seem to do when they move out for the first time. I was lucky to finish moving in literally the day before we went into lockdown. I had a small couch and I couldn’t invite people over to fill it. I had four chairs around my dining table and no reason for all of them to be there. Most of all, I’ve never lived alone before and I was scared of being lonely. And this isn’t just normal loneliness hanging over me, it’s pandemic loneliness. Don’t-go-meet-your-neighbours loneliness. Can’t-smile-to-the-grocery-store-clerk-past-my-mask loneliness. Have-no-reason-to-speak-for-days-on-end loneliness.
But on the other hand, I was in a house with other people and I still couldn’t go meet my neighbours, never even went to the grocery store, was essentially confined to my room, and still wasn’t talking to anyone for days on end. And loneliness while other people are present is ten times worse. It was long overdue and I was growing to hate, hate living at home. It felt so stifling, which was exacerbated by the pandemic. Marvin still goes between my parents’ houses, so he was only there half the time. Amy moved a couple months before into a house with four or five roommates and I wanted the same, minus the roommates. I’ve been scouring rentals and even properties for sale for literal years. I nearly had enough for a down payment on a very tiny place, but finally things were getting suffocating enough that I was ready to go anywhere. Thankfully, I didn’t have to compromise too much on my wishes in order to leave. I quite like my new place.
Oh dear, it took so long for me to write this that it is now Christmas morning and I ought to go to bed.
I won’t be spending Christmas Day entirely alone, if you were wondering. A small change in the lockdown rules allows people living alone to visit another household once around Christmas, and I’m taking advantage of that to spend it with my Dad, Marvin (who’s at my dad’s house), and Amy (who moved into my Dad’s temporarily right before the lockdown so she wouldn’t have to spend Christmas with her roommates). It’ll be good, I think.
Now I’m huddled with some hot chocolate and my tiny pink Christmas tree, thinking on all of the changes between now and a year ago.
It’s been quite a year. Mostly bad. But time is constantly forcing us forward, even if we’re huddled in our houses for days or weeks on end. Things are different, but I hope you find something to celebrate today.
Merry Christmas, or if you don’t celebrate Christmas, Happy December 25th.
Precarious Writer 