Back in 1995 as I prepared to move to my present location, I thought sure I had given away, sold and donated clothes, pots and pans and just plain bunches of household items. Now, as I prepare for the painter to start early Monday morning, I have only one room that is not going to be painted as it is a vibrant shade named “Pacific Red” and I so much enjoy being in this room. My room houses my computer and keyboard, music. my awards and photos of my school children over the years. It also has a black metal futon (for overnight guests, my sons, grandchildren).
It’s sheer irony because right now, this wonderful room is being used as a store room, catch- all, for the goodies and such from the other rooms. Picture my closet floor covered with all my breakables, that I removed from my curio. I have art decor, stashed behind the futon, the floor that is carpeted is now covered with boxes holding books, Cd’s and photo albums that once were in the living room area and foyer.
And then I start to wonder, when did I start collecting magazines, clippings and other paraphernalia? Do we consciously get rid things vowing never again and then somehow start the process all over, again and again? What are your feelings on this subject?
Can it be, it’s only me?
Current Mood: rolleyes