house...
...is like home, except maybe not.
New place is rather nice. Think late eighties construction, in a very white-man style home. Or rather Enid Blyton, without the vicious hatred of children boiling subcutaneously.
Room that is mine is/was the study. Slightly shorter than last year's room, but a hell lot more comfy, with crimson carpeting and windows opening out into rose bushes again.
Yard is rather nice and everything. Big enough to toss a disc, not too big it's a pain to keep. Small, mostly dehydrated, pond in one corner. Sometimes you can see a goldfish inside. How it's keeping alive is really weird.
Distances are a bit far. Used to be a five minute walk to class. Now it's like a twenty minute walk to the bus stop, another 33 minutes to campus if the bus arrives on time. All very tiring, but should be sleek and smexy by mid year. Unless I get fat-ter.
At any rate, I can't say it's too depressing. Tiresome it may be, but when you're walking with shadows, the sun is always bright.
