Determined to be independent

I was 18 years old. Freshmen in college. Living at home. But I really had wanted to live on campus... Financially was not able to do that. Since my college was only 20 minutes from home, it just made cents sense to commute. At the time gas was cheap. I carpooled with Kshotz, a cousin (once removed) of an ex-sister in law, confusing ain't it?! We alternated each week on who would drive. Having just met a week or so before school started, we became fast friends in our drives.

I was a very independent person outside of living at home. I had a good job, handled all my own bills, maintained had a car, bought or sewed my own clothes, took care of my own meals unless it was Sunday after church of course and that was with family. Or if I happened to be home when the rest of the family was having a meal I ate with them. My schedule was crazy, but I loved it.My only wish was that I could live on my own.

That's when I rediscovered the attic of my dad's garage. He had built a 2 story garage about 10 years before and the upstairs was huge. Mostly used for storage, but there wasn't much up there. After begging for permission to make that my space, I moved all the stuff to one side of the attic and moved in. Taking my antique full sized wrought-iron bed, record player, shelving, all my favorite books, I made that space my own!

Ahhh.

It was probably late September. I remember drifting off to sleep under several quilts and hearing the rain on the roof. What a great sound! During the time when I was home, I sat at my Grandpa's old huge walnut desk that he'd used in the parsonage and did my homework by lamp light. I still have that desk and it's being used as the computer desk in our living room.I still used the house facilities and it felt like camping. Rushing up the outside steps in a bathrobe and wet hair was getting a bit brisk. Then listen to my James Taylor album as I got ready for bed.

Since the room was unfinished, air blew in under the roof overhang, birds flew in on occasion and once a bat...

And then the weather turned. The first morning that I woke up and my nose was frozen and the water in a cup I'd brought to bed was now in solid form, I knew it was time to move back into the house.

Well, that and the fact that my parents kept telling me too...

It might have only been a few months, but I loved the independent feeling that I got from the experience. After that time, a younger sister and myself moved into the 1st floor of the house instead. The main floor was the 2nd floor. We had a living room, bath, 2 bedrooms and access to the laundry room and upstairs whenever we wanted. So I guess the next best thing to living on your own... and a heating vent right above my bed.

Ahhh.