When I was a kid, I wanted one of two things, to either live in one of the tiniest places possible (I had fantasies about living in this vacant Fotomat booth in our grocery store parking lot) or live in a mansion. There was no in-between. Coming from a regular (albeit, charming) middle class, two story home, I wanted to experience something different.
As it turned out, wish #1 came true. I live in a place slightly larger than a Fotomat booth, smaller than my childhood home, but no where near mansion size. And you know what? I love it.
And so, when my friend posed this question, "Is it wrong that I want this?" it made me wonder, what if things had turned out differently, what if I'd gotten the mansion instead of the townhouse? To my surprise, the mansion suddenly felt like the lesser of the two options. And believe me, it had nothing to do with the house where the party was hosted, which was hands-down gorgeous, but when picturing myself as the owner, here's what came to mind...
- Containment: With a gym, pool, bar and cinema, I would never have a reason to leave the house. And one of my great joys in life is leaving the house. I love chance encounters, sharing spaces, and allowing little diversions to add adventure to my plans.
- Cleaning: Big houses take longer to clean. I guess if you own a mansion, you hire someone. For me, cleaning is meditative. A weekly rite that takes exactly one blissful, soul searching, hour.
- Things: Lots of space means lots of things, and I only like to own a few things. In fact, I'm constantly plotting ways to get rid of things.
- Empty rooms: Mansions have more rooms than people. Even in my parents' house, having more rooms than people kind of freaked me out. I can't sleep thinking about all those vacant spaces.