You stand in the doorway to your bedroom taking in the haphazard space before you, surveying the paths through boxes half unpacked. A stack of broken down boxes are wedged between an internal wall and a dark, wooden nightstand positioned to hide one flaw, a large scratch on the side. To the left of the solitary window in the room sits a banged up, partially organized desk surrounded by several half-empty boxes. You managed to snag one of the rooms with a small yet oddly tall closet which currently houses half your unpacked clothing inside. Somewhere in this room is your bluetooth speaker, and in hindsight you wish you had labeled the boxes with more specificity as the nonfunctional fireplace mantel you are using as a headboard would be the ideal home for a bluetooth speaker. A noise from outside interrupts your surveillance, making you uneasy before you identify it as a branch knocking against the external wall and upper left corner of the window. This is the only space in the house that is exclusively yours, where objects and furniture will not intertwine to create a tapestry of the people living in the house. As of right now, you still feel like an interloper in this space. The yellowed and mundane receipt you found on the slightly higher than average closet shelf acted as a reminder that you are not the first person to rest here.