Wanted: A Hiding Place

we all need one

There’s a story I love to tell about my mother, who, in a bid to avoid an unannounced visitor, hid in the front closet of our house and had my sister answer the door. The interloper, who somehow managed to invite herself in, stood chatting in close proximity to my mother’s not-so-secret hiding place.

As Mrs. O puffed away on her lit cigarette while drinking a cup of coffee (in the dark), my sister caught sight of a thin trail of smoke escaping from the wood shutters. To her credit, she somehow managed to shimmy the guest outside, away from the incriminating evidence, before the faint odour of menthol could give the game away.

‘I just couldn’t face company,’ admitted my mother, almost pleadingly, while still sitting in the closet, still smoking and rather happy, truth be told.

Everyone needs a bolthole, a hiding place, somewhere to escape the world if only for five minutes. My biggest source of anxiety is, likewise, an ad hoc visitor. A close second is not getting to bed with a cup of chamomile tea and my Google Nest before 9 p.m.

Keanu Reeves could arrive with a dead iPhone, looking for directions to the Maryborough Hotel and I’d be wrapped in the duvet like a Swiss roll, nodding off to another RHONY podcast. Much like Mrs O, I love a bit of ‘me’ time. In fact, I think I like it too much. I don’t need a dark closet; I need a search party and a federal negotiator to extract me from my snuggery. 

Recently, I opted out of my Google Maps monthly timeline. It was starting to feel a bit personal. I work from home, I cook at home, I exercise at home; I entertain at home. Sometimes, I just can’t face leaving home.

Home is my happy place. 

Home is my vibe. 

I wouldn’t be half the homebody I am, had I not manifested my apartment. Seriously.

After a litany of dead-end viewings that may as well have come with police tape and a coroner, I took a moment to write down everything I wanted in a home from hardwood flooring, dual-aspect windows and landscaping to a lush location with a birdseye view of the city. Two weeks later I signed a contract with EVERYTHING on my list. 

So, yeah. I’m #cosycore. Can you blame me? 

P.S. We’re hitting peak Ovaltine weather soon, folks. If you need me, you know where to find me. 

Just be sure to text me beforehand.