I've just spent the last 30 minutes+ digging through pretty much all of my room (except clothes cupboards and bookcase) looking for a foldable shopping bag that I had bought when I came back from London. I hadn't even used the damn thing once D: and now I can't bloody find it. Except now come to think of it as I'm typing this, I might have given it to my Grandma as a gift. Damnit I can't remember anymore, and if I can't I'm sure she won't be able to as well. ANYWAY I have come to the conclusion that there is a lot of shit in my room. Some of the stuff dates back to when I was studying IB, as evinced by my textbooks still hanging out. Others just came about from other parts of the house and settled there, like the eternal yellow flashlight on my desk that was bought when we went trekking in Nepal in 2009.
My bedroom is also the de facto family room. My Mum comes to dry her hair and store her lesser used clothes, my Dad uses it as his office and Ryan comes to destroy things and lie about. Then there was also a time when my Mum used to store all sorts of random stuff like extra Teachers Day gifts in my room too, but that's now been shifted to Ryan's room. Digging through all the random drawers and plastic containers in my room, I found the most random of things like: gifts from South Korea that I had hidden from my brother, chocolates for students, a dozen free gift pouches of good quality, all the cloth belts from my dresses than I thought had gone missing and my skipping rope. Actually I thought the skipping room was downstairs in the living room, and have no idea how it migrated upstairs. Point is I feel unaware of where things are in my space!
It makes me almost miss my room in Marchmont Street. It was so small and I was the one who always kept it tidy, so I knew where things were (90% of the time at least). This room is so much more bigger, less private, and managed by a zealous maid who likes things neat. I cannot keep track of things URGH.
I just realised there's even a house phone that no longer works next to me on my desk. Sigh.
My bedroom is also the de facto family room. My Mum comes to dry her hair and store her lesser used clothes, my Dad uses it as his office and Ryan comes to destroy things and lie about. Then there was also a time when my Mum used to store all sorts of random stuff like extra Teachers Day gifts in my room too, but that's now been shifted to Ryan's room. Digging through all the random drawers and plastic containers in my room, I found the most random of things like: gifts from South Korea that I had hidden from my brother, chocolates for students, a dozen free gift pouches of good quality, all the cloth belts from my dresses than I thought had gone missing and my skipping rope. Actually I thought the skipping room was downstairs in the living room, and have no idea how it migrated upstairs. Point is I feel unaware of where things are in my space!
It makes me almost miss my room in Marchmont Street. It was so small and I was the one who always kept it tidy, so I knew where things were (90% of the time at least). This room is so much more bigger, less private, and managed by a zealous maid who likes things neat. I cannot keep track of things URGH.
I just realised there's even a house phone that no longer works next to me on my desk. Sigh.
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