Moving In

As the title would suggest, I’ve finally flown the coop, moved out of the nest, grown up as some of my friends seem to suggest, and with it, comes a very large bed. A bed so big I can finally sleep with my laptop without worrying about kicking it off the bed. And no, the laptop is not metaphoric, symbolic or whatever it is of a woman.

Moving out is something I’ve planned for the last two years, and I felt it was the right thing to do, or the right time, but it has been on my mind, and finally I did. Here’s the amusing part though, it took me two months to actually move into my new place, two. I paid for a few months rent and it took me two to move in. But here’s the most most amusing thing, it’s been two weeks since I stepped home home after I moved out.

I remember waking up one Sunday evening after a long nap and telling my parents to get into the car and we go. My old man was a little surprised when I drove into some residential area and pointed to where I was going to be staying now. My mother went into over drive, asking me for a wife. A beg. Hold that thought for just a second. I could see their excitement. And mine too.

I am just bemused that moving into a new place would take that long and yet losing the ties to home could take so little a time. Must be that bed. Mehn, that bed. Anyway, I finally moved out, and this comes with more responsibilities.

Ah! Responsibilities.

 

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