I’m exhausted, much as I would be if I’d spent a day doing manual labor — and that’s pretty much what I’ve done, actually. I woke up early (for me) at 8am, made it to the 11am meeting, and came home to proceed with the day’s work, which included:
- bringing my new headboard, footboard, and wooden frame up from my van — three flights of stairs
- stashing my mattress and box spring in the corner of my bedroom
- cleaning out my bedroom closet
- bagging up three more bags of stuff to donate to the Salvation Army (in addition to the three bags JS and I dropped off yesterday)
- traipsing all around North Center looking for an Allen wrench set to replace the one I’ve mislaid
- dismantling my headboard and frame
- cleaning out my dresser and nightstand
- moving my bedroom set onto the back porch for the people who are buying it from me this evening
- moving a nightstand from my living room into my bedroom
- putting away all of my clothes in a makeshift dresser (which I’ll use until I get a new one, or JS and I move into together, or both)
- sweeping my bedroom
- putting together my new-to-me bed
- reinstalling the box spring and mattress, including making the bed — complete with bed skirt, comforter, etc.
- rearranging my living room — putting my pachinko machine in the corner, moving a side table out of the corner, and moving a small filing cabinet into my kitchen, where there is new space because of the next item
- moving my two 24″ barstools into my van, where they will be until I deliver them to their new owners this evening
- installing my living room air conditioner (successfully) and attempting to install my bedroom A/C (not so successfully)
- bringing a side table downstairs for its new owner
- grocery shopping at Trader Joe’s
- gathering up at least two big bags worth of garbage
- hauling my cat-hair-contaminated foam mattress topper into the alley
And still yet to do this evening:
- delivering aforementioned barstools
- cooking dinner, or at least ordering it online and eating it
- helping its new owners carry my old bedroom set down three flights of stairs
- washing dishes
- cleaning out my bathtub
This keeping-house stuff is hard work. Then again, I wouldn’t be doing half of this stuff if it weren’t for JS — though they are all things I should have done all along, the idea of moving in with him next Spring with all the crap I have now is daunting. It’s interesting how things change when you start preparing to share a life with someone else… all of a sudden the thousand and one knick-knacks I have all called into question, and not because JS has demanded that I get rid of a single thing (which he hasn’t, although he does think my pachinko machine is a bit outdated — duh! that’s the point! — and he doesn’t share my affinity for random mobiles, beaded curtains, or odd art). Rather, I find myself at a turning point where I feel compelled to examine my propensity for hoarding, and this is a wonderful opportunity for me to ask about almost everything I own: is there a reason I have this? does it have sentimental value? is there a story that accompanies this thing? and is it a story that fills my heart with positives or one that drains me?
Ultimately, I suppose, it’s the process of weeding through my things and keeping the ones that scream ME! and best represent the person I am — the person who will be entering into a partnership with another human being, who has his own set of things that scream HIM!
For now, though, all thoughts of mergers and acquisitions are set aside, and I’m looking forward to taking a bubble bath in a clean tub, followed by hours of vegetating on the couch.