I am trapped upstairs for a few hours.
In fact it's infinitely preferable to the prospect of being downstairs.
Upstairs I have space, warmth, books, magazines, and a cup of tea.
Downstairs there are two rooms piled high with furniture and stuff, and a floor I can't walk on until it dries.
Upstairs, I am content.
Downstairs, before I completed the necessary gymnastic feat to get my foot on the stairs, I was miserable.
Who was it that said, "I'm in my own little world. It's ok, they know me here."?
Psalm 91:4 says
"He will cover you with his feathers, He will shelter you with his wings.
His faithful promises are your armour and protection."
Under His feathers I am safe.
I may be here a while.