Home Sweet Home

I have always had trouble feeling "at home" anywhere.

Of course, it doesn't help that I am sadly deficient when it comes to the "nesting" impulse. I do not know how to decorate, nor do I much care what a room looks like, as long as there is room for books, a bed, a place to keep my clothes... you know, the necessary things.

Sometimes, I do wish I was more domestically inclined. Perhaps I will be someday. I already clean slightly more often than I did when I was much younger, which is not saying an awful lot, but hey, it's better than nothing, and gives one hope that improvement is not entirely out of my reach. I can also cook a little.

But I feel like I am still waiting and longing for that place to call home. I just wonder how I'll know I've finally found it.