My room isn’t as cool as I would like it to be. The good news is that I don’t have to share it (even though I have a  bunkbed). The bottom bunk of my bed is against the window, so when I’m sleeping on my bottom bunk, I can look out the window and watch the sky until I fall asleep. The top bunk is very close to the ceiling and is a small space. I like it a lot. 

I’ve got a mirror on the wall that I’ve had since I was five years old. It’s plastic, it’s pink, and it has a button that, if you press it, will assure you that “you’re as pretty as a princess” and “this certainly is a very magical mirror.” It may be annoying and childish, but hey, at least I have a mirror. 

The floor of my room used to be carpet, but I didn’t like it much, so last summer, I tore it all out and cleaned the hardwood under it. It took a long time and at least two bottles of wood cleaner, but it was worth it. The walls in my room used to all be plaster and painted to look like a race track, but before I was born, my brothers had my room and thought it would be a good idea to kick the ceiling from their bed. It fell on them. Now half of my wall is drywall and covered in marker drawings. There’s a hole in the plaster of my closet ceiling from a few years ago. Workers were fixing the shingles on the roof, and it just crumbled. There’s also a hole in the wall from something long before I was born. I cover the hole in the wall with a corkboard and stay out of my closet. 

I don’t spend very much time in my room anymore, it is more my younger self’s room than mine. In some ways, it is a time machine.