Friday, May 09, 2008
We’re working our way through the house slower than I’d like, but it’s difficult when I’m mostly doing it on my own. The kids aren’t particularly helpful. In some ways, I don’t blame them. They’re not going to see their friends again for a very long time, so they’re trying to spend lots of time with them. But still, some assistance would be nice. Even if they cleaned up their own messes for a change, it’d make things easier.
I’m currently going through my bedroom and one thing is blazingly apparent. I have too much stuff. I have a lot of clothes I haven’t worn in years and yet kept, apparently just because I could. And books. Every surface in my room has piles of them, they’re stacked in little mountains on the floor, in my closet and even in boxes. Also, for a woman that doesn’t have a lot of makeup, I sure as hell have a LOT of makeup. I began to take that as a sign that I really am a girly-girl after all, but the various potions and concoctions I’ve bought over the years and never used kinda threw that theory out the window. Trying to condense it all down in to 2 suitcases ... well, that’s going to be a mission in itself.
On top of all that, the whole experience is making me feel old. Not only am I seeing just how much crap I’ve accumulated over the years (and being reminded of the tiny little thing I was when I first met J, something I most certainly am not any longer), but it’s also my youngest’s 17th birthday today. Yes, it would feel better if you remind me how young I was when I had him.
Not Quite An Alien ...
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