Alrightie so I woke up this morning in a very small room in Vancouver, Robson Street is right behind me as I type. No I didn't spend the night at some strangers house and just wake up here haha, I am house (more like room) sitting for my ma and her boyfriend. I woke up quite content, aside from having brutal cramps and no one to spend have the day with. I've only stepped out once (to grab a few things from IGA) because I couldn't quite decide what to do. The original plan was to print off my resume and an application so I could venture off to English Bay and apply at Cactus Club and then get some nice sun rays while reading. That plan went out the window the moment I realized there was no printer to be seen in this loft. Several texts and phone calls later I found someone to accompany me on the pool roof. Yes there is a pool on the roof overlooking the city and it is pretty spectacular.
Anywhoooo, after wishing my friend a good day at work as she left around 8 I started freshenin' up, made myself a reaaal good smoothie and chilled near the window with the breeze cooling the room. I felt like a different person. As though I were getting a glimpse of what it would be like to live downtown alone. The atmosphere is very different. I'm a tad ambivalent about living in the city. I love the city don't get me wrong, but I just don't know how I feel about waking up to loud traffic and big garbage trucks, even though I kinda hear that at my place. It may have something to do with this room in general, it just doesn't feel welcoming. Black and white and no colour aside from the bright red jar holding cutlery. The walls are naked and stark white. Not my cup of tea but I'm really only here for the pool and the hustle and bustle of the city below.
However, the whole independence thing feels good. I played some music and danced around while prepping my smoothie. I sliced my finger a bit because I'm not accustomed to sharp knives- the ones we have are extremely dull our butter knives are probably sharper... but even with the quick cut to my finger I was still upbeat and content. I just want a place of my own so bad, but I can wait for it. I'm in no financial means to up and leave just so I can have a place to call my own. I'm fine having a room of my own to paint and be creative in and have it feel like me. Besides my itch to travel is far greater than that of having my own place. Peru and Arizona are calling my name, I know I'll visit them this year. Italy can wait just a bit, the pool on the roof can not. Time to go sun bathe yeeuuus.
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