small spaces

I am house-sitting in San Rafael again, in a house on the edge of Lagunitas creek. The place is fondly referred to as "The Villa" due to the relaxed Mediterranean vibe it creates. I almost forgot to come into work today, the sun room (with its tile and coffee and wifi and early hour sun) is that enticing.

The Villa is very quiet, and as such, you would think I would sleep like a baby. But no. Without the usual drone of buses and the general hum of San Francisco, every creak in the house and every movement old lady cat Cleo makes sounds like someone breaking in or a prehistoric animal tip toe-ing to eat me (having obviously just come through the anomaly in the closet). The large spaces in a house versus a small studio are spaces for unwelcome thoughts, intruders.

I think this is something you adjust to -- the quiet, the space. In my small city apartment, my belongings crowd around me, whereas in this house I can see baseboards. At least Miss Cleo, she snores, which is kindof like a mini bus curled up by my pillow.