||[Mar. 20th, 2010|01:14 pm]
We are at the stage of basement-finishing where timprov is moving his stuff down to the basement, which means that I can use his old room for a staging area for moving stuff around my office, which means I get my new desk soon. Really soon. I hope. Like, when markgritter is done with lunch and can help me with rassling the old desk into place under the window. (No, I'm sorry, avocadovpx, no folding chairs will be used in this rassling. Perhaps it is only wrestling after all. Perhaps only manhandling.)
(Edit: Wiktory! New desk! Successfully moved old desk! Etc.!)
We have added usable space to the house in greater (and prettier and more comfortable) square footage than our first apartment. Not all of that space is ready to use yet, but still, it's an odd feeling, because it's still the same house, and yet it substantially isn't. We haven't had to pack up the kitchen and wonder whether we'll get around to unpacking the wardrobe boxes before we run out of clothes in a suitcase, so it's not like moving, and yet there's the "we need to buy another trash can--we'll have to remember to bring another box of tissues down next time we go--where should we hang this?--which bits of that get cold enough that we'll want an afghan?--how do we handle this other thing?--what can we do without disturbing someone if they're sleeping in their room?" that sounds just like moving. And there's terminology that will have to shift--not only are "timprov's room" and "timprov's bathroom" completely different places than they used to be, "the downstairs bathroom" no longer works now that the main floor is not, in fact, "the downstairs."
And the thing about a major physical upheaval like this--even or perhaps especially a positive one--is that I am finding myself looking at other things as well, deciding that it's time to clean out my office closet or scrub the steps to the hot tub or choose a hallway paint color or make sure I have all the titles of my elisem jewelry typed into a file. (Yes, I know. There's just no way to make that last one about house stuff. Except it is, because it's about my sense of order and inflicting the said order on my surroundings.) Projects beget projects. Oof.
When my dad and I built the basement "guest room"* with ensuite bathroom, we ran into the same "downstairs bathroom" problem too. But I thought it was silly to change anything when our habits were so ingrained, so I just added one -- now we just have the upstairs bathroom, the downstairs bathroom, and the basement bathroom -- and everyone followed along. It helps that the downstairs bathroom isn't near enough to anything significant, being wegded into a corner of the main floor between the entrance to the garage and the closet off the TV room, to give it a better name. In your case, you could at least use something like "the kitchen bathroom" or "the den bathroom".
....Man, this love of order and names and giving everything a place is so weird sometimes. Naming bathrooms! What a strange thing to put that much thought into, when I stop to look at it.
* He was building it for me, because he was trying to cajole/entice/wheedle/pressure me into moving back in with them. Throughout the whole process, he swore it was a guest room, even though he kept saying things like, "Where would you put your desk? I need to put the electrical sockets there." And, "Well, where would you put your bed? What other stuff would you be bringing in? We need to make sure there's enough room for how you want it." But no, really, it's a guest room, he swears. He was very shocked when it didn't work and the "no really it's a guest room" room really did get relegated to being a guest room. Though now it's become a room for me when I'm there and for guests when they come, but mostly for my dad so he can hide from my mother. MY FAMILY IS SO HEALTHY.
It makes me feel like Madeleine L'Engle, to be honest. I mean, yes, it's important that things have names, but...really, do I need to affirm the soul of the john next to the laundry room quite that much? I don't. And yet on the other hand, the library vs. living room conceit has been very useful in making it clear to people where I would prefer to gather after dinner if I'm still doing the washing up.
Is there something about you that makes people want to stick you underground? Because I don't have that urge about you, myself, but statistics are starting to look a bit odd.
I sometimes have dreams that, whatever house I'm living in, has a secret door that when I open suddenly expands to a whole new area of the house that we didn't know about before. I've had these since I was a kid. It's always thrilling to discover new space to play with. I'm excited for you that you get to enjoy this dream for real. :-)
Livin' the dream, baby.
No, really. The actual dream.
Just add "new" in front of your descriptors for a while, until it all settles out. Though there is a danger that this tendency would become permanent, and you'd be 80 and talking about timprov's "new" bathroom.