Junque Drawer

I'm not so good at the whole New Year's resolution business, but I did give a passing thought or two to the idea of being a more consistent blogger. Or at least a more thoughtful diarist. The end of 2008 and the infancy of this brand new year have certainly been full of bloggable moments and ponderable wanderings.

There were the holiday travels. The family times. The bowl game and its aftermath. There is the transition into a whole different phase of our lives. The staging of our home for sale. The departure of my husband towards his big new adventure. The giving of my official notice at work. There are an endless stream of emotions and events, thoughts and ideas, fears and excitements, hopes and dreams.

In short, there is a whole lot of the stuff of life going on here.

But, as is a frequent lament on these pages, it always seems that the fuller my actual life is, the less time there is to bother with the documentation of - or reflection on - it all.

So, here I sit, tonight, with time on my hands. The husband is far away, the son is at work. This is the first chunk of time I've had to myself, sans busywork or togetherness, in weeks. I decided to take advantage of it by doing more of the same purging, cleaning, repairing I've been doing, only this time in my head. I'm opening up the junk drawer of my mind just to see what falls out. As with most of the rooms in our home, I have no doubt that most of the contents will prove worthy of the trash pile. The thing is, I've learned something about this exercise along the way in recent days.

All of that purging may be truly ugly as it's happening.

But more often than not, it ends up leaving a beautiful, useful space in its wake.

And you gotta start somewhere.

This seems as good a place as any.

________________________

This morning, I wrote the most difficult email of my 26 year career, giving official notice of my pending departure from my place of employment. My eyes welled up with tears the entire time I was composing it, and within minutes, my boss - a man's man if ever there were - wrote me back and said, "Are you trying to make me cry?"

It was a sad day. But a happy one. A bittersweet one. I've promised them I will stay until the end of April, at a minimum, and they seem very grateful for that. They are quite open to the possibility of some ongoing contract basis work, and I am very grateful for *that*. Everyone is making me feel as if I'll be missed, and even though I know how these things go, and that I'll likely be an out of sight, out of mind piece of their pasts in due course, I'm happy to believe them, for now.

My husband is three days into his new career, and so far he has no complaints. Just a lot of enthusiasm, a lot to take in, and a lot of change to absorb. He's got a new vehicle, a new phone, a new computer. He's looking for a new (temporary) place to live. He's got new time to spend with old friends. He's got a new well to go explore tonight. And in many ways, it seems as if he's got a new lease on life. It's early yet, and things might change, but for now? He has no second thoughts about the choices he made. My relief in having secured that piece of information knows no bounds.

________________________

The house looks better than it has in years. All emptied out and lightened up. All polished up and spit shined. New paint and new light fixtures. New furniture arrangements and even a couple of new towels. So much new, new, new around here, across the board! 

Apparently, at some point along the way when I was otherwise distracted, we became a family of gluttonous sloths. At least you'd think so by the amount of stuff we've hauled out of here to the landfill (guilt), the storage unit (buried treasure!) and to Goodwill (bless their hearts). Our home feels lean and mean, tight and light. I'm enjoying being in it, cleaning the wide open spaces and trying to act like we're just borrowing the place for a while. Thinking that way, I find, makes it easier to resist the urge to trash it up again.

We took most of the advice of the stager who came to help us, and I have to say, the humble abode sure does look great. So why am I so nervous about her follow up visit on Saturday? She's going to judge me, that's why. And I really can't stand that, on any level. No matter how innocent or constructive it's meant to be.

Because I am a baby and truly need to grow the hell up.

Truly. I do. I know. 

Don't you judge me.

________________________

See? All this purging? My mind already feels a little less cluttered, and if I'm not careful, I could surely pound on this here keyboard a few hours longer. But I think I should take a break. Put some of these thoughts in temporary storage, as it were. Save some of the buried treasure for later.

Because I know, underneath it all, it's in there somewhere.

And damn if starting the process hasn't reminded me how good it feels to unearth it every now and again.

Comments

[tiff]

Hiring a stager was a wise thing to do - those people can work miracles.

Purgining is almost never a bad thing, unless we're talking food. Then it's icky.

[Nancy]

I think I need to follow your example on the purging and starting anew with the posting. My life got so cluttered and complicated last fall that my creativity shut down, the blog suffered, and my writing stopped. When a writer doesn't write, a writer is miserable.

I'm looking at 2009 with a great sense of hope on pretty well every level. Onward!

[pat]

Its always ironic that our homes look thier best when they go on the market!

[Evil Twin's Wife]

While I'm happy you'll be "coming home", I don't envy the home selling process at all. I'll keep my fingers crossed the staging works and it sells quickly!

[Marsha]

I hate that you will have to be separated from your husband for such a long time. I hate waiting too. So much hate for me today. Sending hugs.

[kenju]

I cleaned my living room today and re-arranged the books and curios on the shelves. I tried to go at it like a stager would, but in the end, I only removed 6 things. Maybe when I know I am going to move I can get motivated!

[Hope]

You are one of my favourite bloggers and I am glad anytime you put fingers to keyboard.
Breathe, remember to breathe.

[wordnerd]

Isn't it great to like your house all over again?

Here's hoping that all the physical purge pays off quickly. I can already tell that the mental one is!

[Jen on the Edge]

I understand completely -- the mental clutter, the need to unload, and the stresses related to selling your house and moving. I'm sending you lots of good thoughts and hugs, because I know so very well how stressful this is.