As I may have mentioned, I've recently moved, and am currently rocking new digs in a new neighbourhood.
Mostly this is awesome, for so many reasons, not least of which is that the new neighbourhood is much funkier and edgier1 and is also — this bit is very exciting, in case you didn't realise it — a fifteen minute walk from work. Goodbye terrible dragging commute on Yarra Trams; no, I shan't miss you! I NEVER LOVED YOU. OR YOUR MOTHER.
It's a suburb of derelicts, my new neighbourhood, both human and architectural; a suburb of the monied living cheek by jowl with the not-monied; a suburb of laneways and factories crammed in and around once-stately now-subdivided homes. It's a liminal space, its shadows filled with graffiti and discarded dreams, and I can't wait to discover more of it. I'm planning lots of rambling impulse-driven walks in my (ha!) free time.
Now, I'm told the fact that I live near an (allegedly) famous cafe type place is also exciting, but I am a philistine and to me food is food is an interruption in my day to refuel that I don't dislike but do resent the inordinate quantities of time it consumes in turn, so that's not my favourite thing about the new digs. My favourite thing about the new digs is that it's such a cosy little place, with a heater (that works). And that the building has a cat! Yay building cat!
Her name is Abigail, and she loves (to run away from) me. So that's working out just fabulously. Uh huh.