I was all set to blog and then the mental image of Tina Turner associated with the above phrase instantly made me feel better.
Who doesn't love Tina singing that song? Nobody. There's your double negative dose for the day, folks. I should stop now, but I won't.
It's Dumpster Day in our quaint Ohio Park neighborhood, a day which comes but once a year, dotted with dumpsters around the circumference of the park to entice all of the residents here to get rid of all that shit in their collective basements. We will be participating. With feeling. Which brings me to the subject of today's post: the selling of our home. Nothing's been put into motion quite yet, but barring unforeseen and unlikely circumstances (i.e., winning a lottery that neither of us plays), I'm relatively certain it will be happening. Probably not anytime soon, especially considering the current market, but it will be happening. I've gone through a range of emotions about it over the last week and a half since the dreaded topic first surfaced, up to and including throwing myself on the pavement and beating it with my fists. I. Don't. Want. To. Move. But ultimately, the thing that matters most to me - the happiness of all of the members of this household - has become unquestionably threatened by the plain cost of living here. No four walls are worth joining the Rat Race. We have good jobs. One of us has good credit. We are healthy and able-bodied, and we are both passionate people whose tolerance for hamster wheel living has been worn to the nail bed. Truth be told, I haven't found much trouble in paying for our home. But my financial contribution is far less than his. So is my capability to obtain yet another job, more hours, etc.
So here we are. I feel good about our decision, I think it's the right thing to do, and when I focus on the temporary gains, like the thought of how much money we'll be able to sock away in the bank while renting, and how they'll add up to future gains, i.e., buying another home - with a down payment! - in a few years, it all makes glorious sense. I feel all grown up and healthy inside, and that makes me happy.
It's when I think of moving the coffee table, the same one that was in my parents' house and my grandparents' house before that, that I get misty-eyed. Or the garden. Most of all, telling Maddie, who is unaware of our plans but by some psychic coincidence is now telling me on a daily basis how much she loves this house and thinks it's sooo much better than the last two apartments and I can only imagine her heartbreak at my eventually telling her it's time to go.
So today is Downsizing Day. Going through the house, getting rid of all the crap we haven't touched since we first moved it box by box into these four walls, keeping in mind that the next four walls won't be nearly as wide and hanging on to the hope that the smaller space will only cement the bonds between the people nestled a bit snugly within them.
I worry that he'll feel cramped.
Big wheel, keep on turnin'.
Posted by stephanie at May 6, 2007 09:59 AM