Furniture. I know it sounds materialistic but there's more to it than that.
I packed up my life and moved to Atlanta, GA two years ago, 800 miles from home, because I was offered a couple record deals to some smaller-ish labels but run by pretty big people. I sing. When I first got here I lived in a hotel and then bounced around to 10 different suburbs in the first 8 months I was here, trying to keep a roof over my head and find a job. I didn't know anyone in the state really. I was taking over people's leases from craigslist, in rat infested apartments, hotels where there were drug busts...all over the place. At one point when it was 3 degrees, I was sleeping in a basement of someone's house and he had no heat and no hot water and no space heaters, lol. I had to take showers in ice cold water in 3 degree weather for a month.
I finally got a small house with a girl i met, and we found out it was in foreclosure, the landlord never told us. The landlord wasn't even legit, he was the tenant that lived there and found out it was in foreclosure so he moved out and pretended to be the landlord. Before we could even move out, a pickup truck drove down the street and plowed into my car in the driveway and sent my car into the living room, while the truck took out the patio. We had 72 hours to move out because it was gonna collapse or catch fire (my car hit an outlet).
Found another house with my friend, and lived about 30 minutes from Atlanta. After a year of being so far away, in May I finally moved to actual Atlanta, got a new (used) car, and got a pretty nice apartment all to myself. My hard work finally paid off. I couldn't find a job when I got down here though for three months so all the money I brought with me disappeared very quickly. Now I'm working at a place that's pretty slow currently and for the past year I've been struggling really badly, but holding out hope it will pick up and I'll make more money (but as of this weekend, I'm looking for a new job for sure). I wouldn't say I'm living, just surviving. Sometimes I can't eat for a day or two just so I can pay my bills, but it's all good cuz I'm kinda thick anyway LOL.
But because I just moved down here completely alone and I brought only the stuff that could fit in my car, I never had any furniture. Once I moved into this place, I couldn't afford anything great so I have a $30 couch from the thrift store, a $10 chair from the thrift store, a dresser my mom gave me, and a king size bed on the floor, not even on a frame.
It's not so much that I want furniture so my house can look nice, but I want it so I can finally feel like I'm at HOME. Atlanta is now my home. I had no home for the first year here, all I had was a car full of laundry baskets filled with my stuff. I need to feel like I belong and like I'm not just "staying" here, like it's another hotel. I need to feel like this isn't a transitional period for me, and that this is where I'm supposed to be. It gets really fucking lonely down here sometimes, I don't really have friends, and every single member of my family is 800 miles away. So I just want to have a home, a place I feel comfortable and safe, and right now it's just a cute space filled with thrift store furniture that doesn't match. :(