What could be more tedious than hearing about other people's dreams? Hearing about their home renovations. Has that ever deterred me? No. This, then, is my old kitchen. I know you all thought it was actually some dreadful serial killer's house, did you not?
It was alarming to encounter my kitchen in this state. The ceiling was gone. There were wires dangling and exposed rafters and lots of exposed brick. I would close my eyes to sleep only to have this image etched on my eyelids. I was so worked up about it all that the only thing I could do on the first night was to shovel cheese and crackers into my mouth like a machine. Swilled down with the occasional gin. My stomach was in knots. There was no turning back now. There is no turning back now.
Of course I catastrophised about the builders fleeing under cover of darkness and leaving it like this forever. An elaborate practical joke withmy house at the centre. In a state of utter decay. There are already vines attempting to open the back door. Spiders are ruling the roost. Yes, there is always one house on every street. One that lets down the team. And, currently, my house is it. Hoorah.
But now I am growing used to it. In fact, it is kind of comforting to know that houses, like humans, are little more than a bag o' bones. All weird and ugly underneath. But kind of lovely at the same time.