Personal essay that symbolizes emotions and meaning of life

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Growing up In a Box

It has always fascinated and surprised me how the manner of living of people have changed over the years . Cave men didn 't even have a door then and they share their houses with a bunch of other (not to mention unhygienic ) people . At least they had a big space and a much bigger backyard . Our place was no mansion but it could have used a little more room or some expert advice from some interior designers . How

I wished Extreme Makeover was already around when I was a little kid . I imagined having my own room , full of my own stuff of course . But there was neither a rehearsed knock on our door nor an entourage of carpenters interior designers and volunteers . Instead , the bills and representatives from the bank were the only visitors with real purpose that ever came knocking

It became like a game to us . Our parents would freeze and look at us with stern . Everybody knew what that meant - stop whatever activity we were doing and wait a few minutes after the knock (and sometimes yelling ) outside the door subsides , which tells us that the it ' in the game is already halfway down the stairs of our four storey apartment . We would switch to power-saving mode . Everything , other than those necessary for living , which is basically just breathing , would have to be suspended , at least until after whoever was knocking left Like clockwork...