Paper Dolls

Photo by Allison Brady

Single gal searching for single family home. Maybe I am just kidding myself, maybe I will just jump, but I am looking for a house. To buy. And that is a strange thing for one to do when one feels transitional. Perhaps the thinking is that this will settle me. So here I am trying to imagine what my life will be like five years from now, not even knowing what the summer will bring. And here I am amidst all the other buyers: couples, couples with kids, couples with babies, retirees. And here I am looking at the staged rooms: one staged as the nursery, or one as the home office, or one as a way-too-large dining room. I try to picture myself in each of these scenarios. OK, the home office is an easy one. But as I walk through the garden, take a tour of the garage-cum-woodworking shop, step through the gourmand's kitchen, I feel like a paper doll trying on her different outfits. And underneath it all, barely covered by my cardboard cut-outs, nothing but my knickers.