I wish I’d been blogging seven or eight years ago.

I moved around that time, you see, from a small two-bedroom (fairly compact) unit, into my three bedroom, three level townhouse.

And I’m wondering now if I was bewildered with the amount of space suddenly at my disposal. My three bedroom apartment became even more spacious when I moved my study into the (far handier and) unused dining room, leaving two bedrooms almost constantly unused.

I mean, if I’d been sharing my every-thought back then I would surely have written about it and there’d be some sort of documentation about my reaction. (I mean, I can’t possibly be expected to remember such things. Better I post them on the internet, available to all and sundry for eternity!)

So, did I wander about, overwhelmed with the spaciousness – I wonder – or did I just spread myself out through some process of subconscious osmosis?

I’m pondering on this now cos I’ve realised that I’m struggling a bit with the lack of space in my new apartment: apartment number three (not counting houses/apartments I rented of course!)

I’ve talked about the fact that I seem to be spending A LOT of time on my bed. In fact I’ve worried that I’m constantly throwing myself down on my bed as if having some kind of temper tantrum. Though I’m not. Really!

But I am spending a lot of time on my bed. Sleeping, or pfaffing about on my iPhone (I can’t tweet or FB on it as I don’t get reception inside my place).

It occurred to me today that the only reason I’m doing it is cos… I really have nowhere else to go.

And I don’t mean that in an ‘Oh, I’m so lonely way,’ cos I have had a few things on this week and try to always have an outing each day during this not-working phase of my life. It’s not that.

It’s just when I’m at home, I really just alternate from my desk to my bed. And back. And so forth.

In the evening I’ll sit on my verandah and watch the world go by, loll in the bath and watch a bit of TV, but during the day my movements are fairly limited.

So… I’m wondering if it’s cos I’ve got nowhere else to go. I’m trying to remember what I used to do in my old place. Sure, I spent most of my week at work, but when at home I didn’t feel quite so…. confined in terms of space; and limited in terms of options. Veging (doing nothing) was FAR easier and more comfortable.

I’m heading to Brisbane (my nearest capital city and former hometown) at Christmas and (although I’ll be there only briefly) I am hoping to get to the furniture store where I previously saw a sofa I didn’t dislike TOO much. When I downsized for this move I dumped stuff, including my old sofa (bringing three chairs with me instead). I’m hoping that a comfy sofa might offer me an additional wallowing spot. Cos, quite frankly, nothing else is going to change any time soon.

My place isn’t going to grow. I’m not suddenly going to have more space in which to loll and contemplate life.

And I am hoping assuming that I’ll get used to the smallness of my new space (and life) in no time at all and soon… it will feel like home.

Have you ever upsized or downsized and struggled with the change? (Or is it just me?)