I have a huge (seriously, huge) apartment in Palermo, about 2 minutes walking from the Embassy where I work. I live across the street from five or six embassy employees, and downstairs from a lovely couple. I don't always measure distances in number of cartwheels possible, but it is appropriate here. I have enough space to do six cartwheels from my fireplace to the dining room and could bowl in the hallway to my bedroom.
However, after seven weeks here, it still doesn't feel like home. This may be mostly due to the fact that I fall asleep on the sofa each night, and then have to do that painful half-asleep drag down my bowling alley hallway to my bedroom. At that point, I am awake and have lost any of the sleepiness I earned on the sofa. It annoys me. So I am moving to a smaller apartment in Belgrano, twenty minutes from the embassy, with old dumpy furniture. And I couldn't be happier. It finally feels like home.
However, after seven weeks here, it still doesn't feel like home. This may be mostly due to the fact that I fall asleep on the sofa each night, and then have to do that painful half-asleep drag down my bowling alley hallway to my bedroom. At that point, I am awake and have lost any of the sleepiness I earned on the sofa. It annoys me. So I am moving to a smaller apartment in Belgrano, twenty minutes from the embassy, with old dumpy furniture. And I couldn't be happier. It finally feels like home.
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