My Room as My Sanctuary

In the last couple of years, I’ve been living in a fairly big studio-type room allotted by the company I work for for bachelors like me. I find it perfect for my various requirements: the occasional privacy-slash-alone-time-moments, hosting small dinners or drinking sessions, letting a few friends sleepover for the weekend, my after-office-hours workplace, my private multimedia entertainment room and of course, my sleeping quarters.

In a couple of weeks time, I’ll be moving out of my current room and transfer to an adjoining room. The reason is primarily for aesthetics, but practicality is a near second. I wanted a room with more windows.

And moving into a new space generates some giddiness in me and some rampant spending.

I’ve bought a spanking-new, shiny, black LCD TV.
I’ve bought a dark-themed painting from a friend’s sister.
I’m buying romanian-type curtains in brown.
I’m scouting for a couple of tall wooden bookshelves.
A new bathroom mirror and a new shower curtain.
A wall-mirror.
A cheap low-but-long TV stand that’ll fit my new TV with enough room left-over for my game consoles and DVD player.

All these will cost me a little over a hundred grand.

I figured that if I’m staying in that room for another couple of years, I should make it comfortable and live-able by my standards. As soon as I’ve got everything set-up, I’d invite a few friends over as a sort of housewarming.

My room is my sanctuary.