There’re several little things that make one feel at home.
With my recent move, I donated some things, threw away others, but I packed up the majority. Many of my possessions are creature comforts. My entire collection of costumes and accessories, for example. I don’t bother asking when, during this pandemic, I’m ever going to costume myself for an event. That has already happened several times because the plague doesn’t stop cosplay.
It’s probably one of the healthier ways of dealing with reality–escaping from reality for a minute. All the doom and gloom will still be there once I’m finished dressing up as the Mad Hatter, Anubis or Ms Information.
On the other hand, I found a place for the things one thinks makes a civilized dwelling: furniture to sit upon and sleep on, cookware, regular clothes and the such. Even the decorative red throw pillows found a home, much to the delight of the fur baby who gave them the nap test.
Upon the foundation of all the material things being in place, I’ve resumed a productive routine. On the other hand, I’m using this foundation to dream about other things. I have to first visualize myself as doing something else before I take the leap.