The Lap of Luxury

The wettest and chilliest winter nights in Sydney tended to be the ones when I would end up staying late at the university, then waiting for a bus that came fifteen minutes late, then missing my train and having to wait another twenty minutes for the next one. On those nights, as I made my way home at 8.30 or 9.00, hungry, cold, and damp, and with an unheated room and a couple hours more of work to look forward to, I used to do the Eliza Doolittle thing and imagine myself in a room somewhere, far away from the cold night air. I would take the hottest of hot mental showers, tuck myself up under a mountain of heavy mental blankets, and serve myself a mental plate of chocolate chip pancakes and bacon. When that was done, if I still wasn’t home, I’d go further and do a bit of mental interior designing.

Today, I made an important discovery: I learned that my mental haven actually exists. I am enjoying its warm luxuries right this moment.

For the next six days, this is what I have to enjoy:

 














A living room with a couch and a monster set of windows leading out onto a balcony.

A seventh-floor view of Vienna’s Inner Stadt.

A queen-sized bed with a beautifully thick duvet.

A separate kitchen with fridge, oven, and stove.

A bathroom with two sinks and a real live shower curtain.

An anteroom with a stand for hanging coats and hats.

Heating.

After today’s wanders, I enjoyed some couch time with Pi and my Kobo. Later, I elected to sit in the chair facing the balcony to eat dinner. Pi disappeared under the duvet. There’s just so much space. I keep walking around and marvelling at it. Of course, the fact that I’m paying a fraction of the normal weekly rental price (last-minute discount) adds a certain sheen.

This totally makes up for the week I spent sleeping on the floor of my flat in Marrickville.