Decision fatigue
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Question of the Week
What did your childhood bedroom look like?
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We moved around so much that I never really had a bedroom for more than maybe a year and a half, two years at a time. (To new and newish readers, I moved 23 times during the first 25 years of my life; I don’t really love the house I live in now but I’m too tired to move any more!)
My first room in Bayport I shared with Toni, who moved soon after down to Key West. It was a large room, but mostly her stuff; I was in a small bed in the corner under one window, behind some bookshelves. The decor, I guess you could say, was “early hippie.” Later I shared that room with my stepsister, and it was decorated in “books and Weeble Wobbles.” Thus began a decorating theme that would last for the next four or five years, my room being decorated with books and toys. That ended until Dad and I moved to Ormond Beach, where my bedroom was also the living room (so was then decorated… like a living room). It was a studio apartment and my dad slept on the bed in one corner, and I slept on a fold-out couch in the other corner. After we moved back to Gainesville and I had my own room again. PARADISE. And again, decorated in books.
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That really depended on when you visited. I was a big redecorator and rearranger. I moved furniture on a regular basis from the time I was fairly young.
I’ve had everyting from the traditional canopy bed to a great set of Bahama beds that made my room look like a lounge (that was my favorite look).
White, French provincial furnishings with the canopy rarely put up because we moved every 3-4 years. Yes, somehow that was an excuse. My main decoration was stuffed animals and Benji posters. Then I think some Hardy Boys, and then every Star Wars poster made. Ok, at least 9 of them. Oh, I forgot the mandatory sad-faced children prints in harlequin.
A very small room with a bed under the window. The bed was made of real wood, and had enormous carved knobs at the top of the posts. My closet was actual a sort of staircase that led into the attic – beneath my closet was the staircase leading up. Under my window was a metal awning painted with green and white stripes (Directly beneath my room was the front door. From my window, I could see the Masonic Temple in Alexandria (though it was miles away). I looked at the sky a whole lot through that window. No air conditioning, just a old metal box fan. I used to have a book of short stories by (or endorse by) Alfred Hitchcock, that I would read sitting in that closet – the floor of it being about belly high to my childhood self. I remember the smell of the leaves on the trees in summer, breezes through the window, the wooden floor. The tool floorspace of the entire house was 918 sq. feet, and we only had one bathroom. I miss it.