It's a gray drizzly Monday (on top of snow - bad conditions), and I have a head cold. Not too bad, luckily, but I am staying home today.
(Hadn't I just been marveling that I haven't caught a virus? This one's mild, at least. I feel really lucky.)
Any Room with a Bed Is a Bedroom
Because my bedroom abuts my neighbor's, and the wall between us is insulated but not soundproof, I moved my mattress into the living room, on the floor, so the neighbor didn't have to listen to me sneezing and snorting all night.
I like this arrangement--I'm thinking I might leave it and make the bedroom into a studio/study.
BELOW: If I take out the table against the wall, (you can just see the corner, far right), the bed could go there without losing useful living space. I don't use that table much anyway because the corner is not very bright--better for sleeping.
BELOW: The bedroom is sunny on winter days (tho' not today)--the sun is wasted on a sleeping room. Wouldn't this be nice filled with supplies for making stuff and Dolls and Bears? A Toy Room!
(I don't stay up late, so I'm not likely to disturb the neighbor.)
I was thinking it's fun to catch myself in Automatic Thinking Mode, such as, "The bedroom is for the bed."
There's no objective reason that should be so.
I mentioned the neighbor. He moved in Jan. 1, and I'm lucky again--so far, anyway: this guy has either been silent, or I hear him chatting and laughing on the phone. It is so, so nice to hear someone laughing!
Did you hear about that study that said if you're around happy people, you're [x] percent happier yourself--and that includes being around happy strangers, like neighbors?
I feel that in this case.
I like hearing him laugh, and more since I met him, briefly, and got a good vibe. I'd brought a package that was delivered to his door into my apartment, for safe keeping. Our doors open directly onto the sidewalk, so packages sit right there for the taking, and I'd heard someone in a neighboring building say a package had been stolen off their doorstep.
The neighbor--a young man--was friendly, open, and nice.
Niceness. It may not be the most profound quality, but for sure, “nice things are nicer than nasty ones.” (Kingsley Amis, Lucky Jim).
Yup. I liked my auntie's neighbors even though they had Trump signs in their yards because they were nice to her, and to me, and they helped her in her last week--staying overnight with her while she was dying at home.
Well, that last goes beyond "nice"...
