Letting Go...

I have a hard time letting go.

I'm slowly moving back into my office after painting in June. The room was so nice and neat and clean, and I didn't want my truck to ruin it all. There are boxes of stuff; that while I'm not ready to get rid of them, I don't want them invading my fresh office and sitting here until we move and I load them on the truck to go to the next house because I don't know what to do with souvenirs of my year in France (including some texts...anyone need Plato in French from my philosophy class??)

When it came time to empty the office, I was brutal - I got rid of all my notes from university that I knew I would never look at again, I threw out the old calendars with the pictures I probably would never use for bulletin boards, and I tried to save only what was necessary and useful.

Monday, we went to Ikea to buy me a new bookshelf (a Flarke, for those who follow my Facebook updates) for the binders that I didn't empty. I now have all of my teaching stuff organized and in my office. But there are still 2 boxes that I don't know what to do with in the guest room, and they certainly aren't moving back in here. We'll see. There's an extra Rubbermaid container that we bought for J and have never used that has become furniture in our upstairs hall. Perhaps I'll sift through the contents, keep some, and store it in plastic in the basement. We'll see.

Likewise, I'm off today to London to a wedding gown consignment shop. After a year of tripping over, moving, and otherwise unsure what to do with the white behemouth I wore for 6 hours last July, I've decided to see what I can get for it. This fills me with dread, excitement, a little avarice (I could totally use the cash), and sadness. It's a great dress.

Why didn't I try vacuuming in it atleast once?