coming unhinged

When I arrived in Guatemala, they all told me to get used to having less privacy. Everyone will be all up in your business, they said. You'll have less personal space, they said.
This advice was fully realized yesterday as I sat on my family's front stoop reading. A man walked out of our house carrying the front door to my room. I silently did a double take. Is that really my door? I recognized the pink paint splatter and the ribbon tied to the window. Yup, definitely mine.
"Doña Ana?" I asked, "Where is that man going with my door?"
As it turned out, he was just going to fix the lock. It was back on its hinges in a couple of hours, but it was such a surreal experience.
For those of you who don't know, I live in a closet. There's enough space for a bed, but practically nothing else. Storage, cooking and cleaning are a daily challenge.
However, I've always wanted to be the kind of person who could live happily in a tiny Japanese apartment. Right now I'm not, but I'm way closer than when I moved in two months ago.
I think it's a good transformation. I really think twice about buying anything, even a new shirt, because it will take up more space.
This is all part of my transformation into a new-and-improved Emily: frugal, patient, capable.