we're in that weird phase of occupying a new rental where we've filled it with familiar objects, but none of the spatial relationships make sense. walls jump out at horrifying angles; light switches taunt where they shouldn't; we're constantly stubbing our toes and bashing our knees.

i'm deeply grateful we have a place to be - that it's warm and dry; that we have privacy; that we can afford the rent - but the disorientation doesn't get any easier, even after four moves in the last five years. and it's exhausting to recognize that, horrors of private property aside, we're unlikely to ever be in a situation in toronto where we're not clinging to a lease for dear life, hoping the landlord doesn't sell or move back in.