Wide Confinement: noun. State of having lots of space but nothing to really call your own.
Do you remember when you were a kid or a teen? How you couldn't wait to have your own house so your mom would stop telling you to put all your things in your room? Remember when you first had this dreaded conversation about the state of cleanliness of your room:
"It's MY room!" you scream.
"No it's not!" your mom yells. "It's MY room in MY house! You don't HAVE a room!"
OK, at least that's how it went between me and my mom. Maybe yours was one of those "give them space" types.
I'm a grown-up now. Supposedly. I have a house and my personal belongings are scattered through it (take that, Mom!). And yet, I really don't have a space that I can point to and say, "Mine!" Not a big deal in the grand scheme of things. I mean, at least I have a house to live in when so many people around us are losing theirs. There have been at least 3 foreclosures on our block this year.
The thing is that it's not just about having my own space. The problem lies with me. Me and this short dreaded word: crafts. In recent times, I've found out that crafty makes me happy, and crafty often involves a sewing machine. That's not the problem in and of itself, but the fact that I have no permanent place to set up my craftily craftiness. I set up a folding table in the living room, put my supplies on it, and put the supplies away when I'm done. Sometimes I even remember to put the folding table back.
In a small house, it is hard to find a permanent place to put these things. And then I got the wandering eye which fell upon (*scary music here*) Husband's work/hobby room. I bet I could reorganize that to make some extra space along that one wall...
Did you hear that? Husband, somewhere, just shuddered in terror.