Boxington

All 21 years of me sits atop my pink throne and looks down on my small kingdom of Boxington. Or rather, what used to be my kingdom. My country, with its four walls, three windows and blue carpet of a sea, has been invaded by outlying nations. Amidst the boxes of books and college paraphernalia that belong here by birthright lie boxes of immigrants from Kristinland, items not fit for basement storage. My father's desk and filing cabinet are firmly entrenched in the corner. Odds and ends recently relocated from our downstairs remodel fill up even more space. There is hardly room for me anymore.

I can't believe that I am once more sleeping on bunk beds (which are far too small, I hit my head last night). The top bunk is the only place that gets enough light for reading, so I crawl up to the ceiling with my Bronte and survey the geography below. It is odd to look down on such an amalgam of items ranging from childhood to adulthood. The whole of my development stares back at me in the form of stuffed animals, certificates of achievement, posters, art projects, little league trophies, CDs, college texts...

This room in which I was once queen and had many adventures is now void of all possibilities save that of storage space. I am its giant foreigner, trying to find space for my adult self. The knights from my castle set look at me with distrust when I open the closet door. Martin the Warrior's smile seems rather confused and weak as he surveys me from the wall. My polly pockets run back and forth between their little houses, whispering to each other, trying to figure out who the rather large blond lady is.

I suppose it would be a little depressing to be a foreigner in one's own room. The minute I walked across the platform and received my diploma COVER I became a nomad. I may return home, but it's not really home for the present. That's okay though. I much prefer the boxes as they assure me I won't be sticking around for long. Only a few long months of drudgery and I can be out. There may still be drudgery, but at least it will be somewhere new. I'm rather excited about being a nomad. For someone who's lived in the same place all her life, it's a rather mysterious state of being. I hope I move around a lot. At least, I think I do. I couldn't really say what it's like to move. I think there are boxes involved.