I arrived back at my little dorm room (very little) in central London and was struck by the contrast with having just been home in Montreal. My room in London is so little that if I put my two suitcases flat on the floor in my room, I have to jump around to maneuver from the door, to the bathroom, to the closet.
When I unpack, I take it all out, and put it all away. I was daunted when I started. I thought, "What the hell was I thinking at home when I packed all these clothes?!" It couldn't possibly fit in my narrow closet and my shallow-drawer-ed dresser. But, lo and behold, the storage units in my room seem to be some sort of British brand of storage clown cars, because shirts and sweaters and other odds-and-ends just kept going in. And magically it all went in.
It is a bit of a shock to be back in my room in London. All the space and grandeur of home in Montreal has been shrunken (as if in a cartoon) to a cozy little living space. I know I will yearn to spread out my personal effects. Alas, I don't have such room to do so.
A new transition in the new year, a new mode of living. Switching gears for the new semester.