I spent the majority of last weekend cleaning my parent's basement in preparation for my arrival. If it is at all possible to be equally excited and mortified at the same time about my new living arrangements then that would best sum up my emotional state. It has nothing to do with my parents. I love my parents. We get along well, enjoy one another's company, and living with them ensures an increase in extended family time. So, naturally, I am excited. On the other hand, I am moving into a basement. Yes, this was my idea. I am 35 years old and I am moving into a basement. I have no husband, no job security, no savings, and I am moving into a basement. So, naturally, I am mortified.
As I was driving home after a weekend of clearing cobwebs, sweeping dust, and coughing and wheezing, my sister called. I had been expressing my aforementioned conflicted feelings to her and she felt she hadn't been a good listener so, burdened with guilt, she decided to call in order to make it up to me. She told me she was sorry I was feeling down, wished she could make it all go away, and within only a few moments we were both in tears. NOTE: My brother-in-law once told my sister that our family was the most emotionally-driven, guilt-ridden family he had ever met. I have no idea where he got that from.
My sister offered to "tidy the place a bit" in order to lift my spirits. Did I mention I am moving into a basement? I told her I just couldn't bring myself to do it. It is bad enough to have to move into a basement. I am quite certain it is much worse to move into a basement and then "tidy it up a bit". In the end, I decided some candles would be nice to cover up the musty smell, which is extremely faint, thank you very much. And I allowed my sister to talk me into some curtains as long as they were plain and merely functional in order to help mask the plastic covering to block the cold. Maybe once the holidays approach I can bring myself to put some Christmas lights up. As long as no one ever finds out and the purpose would be to simply supply more light, of course. Certainly not for decoration.
About Me
Posey
UPDATE: Yep. This one still loves herself some socks yo.
Possum
UPDATE: This one lost her string called "stripes". She has settled for your basic shoestring now (no name). And is somehow even fatter.
7 comments:
Christmas lights are so pretty. I hate taking them down each year after getting used to the glow.
I love you soooooooooooooooooo much!!!! This is temporary!!! You know that is true!!!
Oh! and I think you're beautiful too!
Oh! I miss you also!!
call me........in your spare time
Really, LJ, basements can be a great place to live. Unless they're wet and stinky. Think of all the people who have no place to live. Congrats on putting yourself out there, though. Some people (myself included) would never take such a risk.
Good God, girl! You are FRICKING HILARIOUS!
I LOL'd (leaped o'er lentils) several times whilst reading this post. You've a talent, L. A definite talent.
I can understand your woe, though. It kinda feels--maybe--like you're shedding 20 years off of your life, by moving back in.
I'm a firm firm believer, though, that things happen for a reason. Call it God, call it Fate, call it whatever you want to call it. Things happen for a reason.
And, as anonymous said, think of people who have no place to live and spend their nights wandering from bus-stop to bus-stop and from alley to alley.
Listen to Beethoven's Ninth, the final movement, "Ode To Joy." I'm not much one for opera--at all--but every time I hear that movement, my breath becomes easier and my spirit feel lightened. And.
And after I listen to the Ninth, I slam some Tupac into the CD-player to bring my elation back under control.
Happy Thanksgiving!
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