Farewell to my little "nest"

Books, CDs, souvenirs from trips, clothes, everything put in "I'm strong enough to carry 30 kilos" IKEA boxes. Almost midnight. This is it... Early in the morning I'm stuffing a track's belly with my (not that few, after all) belongings, moving out of the little studio I called home for almost two years now. It's a little sad. It is. I'm one of those privacy freaks, one of those who prefer to spend most of their time alone, and a good deal of their time at home, reading, listening to music, surfing the web, in my case... planning some next trip, enjoying our own company. A boring one? Maybe. But that's not the point. The point is that people like me, grow a special connection to our home, because it is our "private kingdom", or simply our "nest", if you will.
What am I going to miss from this place, other than the fact that it was my quiet refuge? I'll miss the fact that for almost two years I used to work for a newspaper which was 50 meters on my right (this is actually the reason why I moved here from the other side of the city, so as to avoid the hassle of driving through the chaos called "Thessaloniki city center", every day). I'll miss the view from my balcony, from where you can see pretty much the whole city. And I'll definitely miss the sound of the trains coming and going... The train station is a three minutes' walk from where I'm writing these lines. Lying in bed, watching TV, all I had to do to see trains coming and going was turn my eyes a little on the right. I loved it... I loved watching the gentle slide of the trains, and most of all I loved the sound of them sliding on the tracks. :-) It just came to me... Will I miss the fact that every second night I would wake up in the middle of the night because people on the same floor were having (loud) sex? (thiiiin walls). I don't know... I guess it's one of those things that when they happen, you find them funny at first, annoying then, and funny again, after some time, when you look back...
Yes, I'll miss this place...
BUT, it's cases like this that I bring in mind some Angelo Branduardi song, "Dopo Domenica é Lunedí" (or something like that). I don't really speak Italian, I don't know what the lyrics of the song are exactly about, huh, I haven't even heard this song for a long-long time, but it does cross my mind often, given the appropriate circumstances. "After Sunday comes Monday", which in my head means that... life goes on, no matter what. Everything at some point gives its place to something new. The day after tomorrow I am flying to Vienna, I'll be back early April, and two weeks later I'm off to the US, before settling down for several weeks at Guatemala. "Sunday" was nice, "Sunday" felt secure (relatively well-paid job, staying in a nice studio, comfortable living), but right now "Monday" looks way more tempting... Uncertain, but doesn't "uncertain" go hand in hand with "adventurous", even "thrilling"? Yeeeah, "Monday" definitely looks "woo-hoo" promising...