I knew that I missed having a kitchen, but I had no idea how much until I once again had a full kitchen. It is now my most favorite place. Sometimes I just like to stand in there and ponder the awesomeness of my kitchen. I have been a baking maniac this past month or so.
I appreciate having a kitchen so much that I actually keep it clean! I like to carefully clean it every night before I go to bed. It feels like a meditation. A ritual. A love letter to this new lonely little life I lead.
I was a little nervous moving into my new apartment. I have lived alone before, but the places I had lived alone were always guesthouse situations, where I knew my landlords. I lived on private properties, hidden away in the back where no one could get to me, but very close to people I knew, trusted, and felt comfortable around. This is my first time living alone in an apartment complex. I was not sure how I would feel about it. Would I be scared or nervous or lonely? As it turns out, no. While it is by no means perfect, I like the apartment complex I live in. I love that it has lots of trees and green grass in the courtyards. I, oddly enough, love that my air conditioner is extremely loud because it lulls me to sleep at night. I like how "mine" everything feels like. But mostly, I love that I have a kitchen. A kitchen with a stove, a dishwasher(!), a giant sink, and tons and tons of cabinet space.
Want to come over for dinner? I'm cooking!