My Bedroom

I spent the entire day Saturday painting my bedroom. 

My bedroom. The one I've grown up in. 

The one Patrick & I used to hold Brittney Spears dance concerts for my parents in.

The one Duffy used to sleep in back in his early years.

The one I did countless art projects & crafts in.

The one with the walls I destroyed with pictures of my friends & ticket stubs.

The one with the awful green wallpaper & red carpet.

The one with the door I slammed in my angry teenager years. 

The one I learned to play my clarinet in.

My room. The room that I've spent the last 14 of my years growing up in.

It's an odd feeling. I'm so excited for my parents, for all that they've accomplished in their careers to provide them with the means to make this move. I'm excited to live in this new home for a few months before I venture off with my RM in the world of cheap apartments...I'm excited.

Yet, at the same time...I'm sad. My room is scattered between boxes to keep, garbage, & DI. 

The walls are nude and still smell like paint. 

It's just weird. Weird weird weird. 

It's not really my room anymore, and I will never have a room that chaotic & fun again. This new version is the room to sell the house. One of four bedrooms that are meant to entice a buyer. A buyer that will never know how much this room means to me & what an
amazing time I've had in this home. 

So I'm a little nostalgic, no big deal.

P.S. Please don't mind my hair for the next few days,
 lots of paint dripped in it & has yet to come out.