Changes

I hate moving.

Wait. Scratch that.

Hate is not a strong enough word to describe how I feel about moving. I get the same feeling about moving that I do when I have to do math or when someone suggests I garden - Ugh.. my stomach hurts..blech! Pure torture! There's just too much to do, too much clutter and packing and lifting and oh-look-at-this-I-forgot-I-even-had-this sort of discoveries while you clean and pack and then it takes me HOURS people cuz I have no clue what to part with and what to keep.

Aaaaaaaand..I had no idea I was this slovenly! I mean, ok, a little.. my room is hardly organized, but the rest of the house looks clean and happy. Looks can be deceiving tho once you start moving books around and wow, there's so much dust and...ah..ah..ah-choo! Geez! I mean will someone please tell me WHERE I got all these baking goods?! There's bags of sugar and flour, random dried herbs and half-full containers of spices and mini chocolate chips..ooh! I like those! Little gifts and trinkets from random acquaintances who felt obligated to bring some sort of tiny object as a nice gesture to whatever party I was having at the time and grabbed whatever they could quickly, not caring its sole purpose was to collect dust (Note to anyone inclined to buy me gifts: NO journals, NO plants, and NOTHING that collects dust by just oh, sitting there..unless you would like to be my permanent duster.. and in that case, great! But I can't pay you, ok?)..

I ask you, WHAT, in the name of sweet baby Jesus, do I DO with this crap?! I can't re-gift cuz really, trust me, I just wouldn't do that to my worst enemy. Craig's List and Ebay take everything, but I'm too lazy to ship it out if some desperate home-bound clutter-fiend finds within my junk something they couldn't live without for one more second amidst their crammed floor-to-ceiling-with-small-porcelain-clowns filled apartment. Then of course there's Good Will.. but kids, the poor and homeless have enough problems, don't you think? *Sigh*

So it's spring cleaning around the house these days - except for, um.. not. It's June... so whatever, I'm a season behind. I don't set trends people - like this is news or something.. sheesh.

But I'm feeling the tingle of change starting and it makes me happy and nervous - some dread at the ache and pain I will feel in the form of sore muscles on Sunday when, after all the moving I will have just completed, accompanied by much exertion of my girly, and therefore whiny and weak body, I'll have to get oh so friendly with the mop and sponge that comes with the deep cleaning of leaving any comfy little abode cuz unfortunately I have no minions to do my bidding. You'd think with a moniker like the one I've ingeniously given myself that, you know, it'd come with some bonuses like minions or a magic wand.. or at least a really good knife set.. but I didn't think that far ahead. So if you know of any good, unemployed minions, send them my way. Minions might be the wave of the future.. A girl can always use some good minioning.

Moving on, sans minions, I started tossing out old magazines - keeping the Real Simple ones of course cuz hellooo, Real Simple. There's a love you couldn't possibly understand that I have for this magazine.. no, you couldn't. And it's mine and it's sacred. So just be quiet. I bravely got rid of the acquired Lucky and Organic Style mags of which I have great admiration and wishes for being that lucky and yes, that organically styled.. but they are no Real Simple and for that, even tho it was hard and I debated whether or not to look thru them all one last time at oh, midnight last night, just for one little, tiny thing I might've needed, I resisted, closed my eyes, and off to the recycling bin they went. Ooh.. that was tough!

But I have to be honest, cleaning is so therapeutic for me. Starting fresh feels so hopeful. Getting rid of what isn't needed, what may have never been needed in the first place leaves room for surprises and suddenly, what you never knew you needed at all has appeared without you even uttering a simple, whispered-under-your-breath wish and you realize, hey, I really needed that. I can't believe I ever went without it. However, what follows is that nagging feeling of second-guessing myself.. did I throw something away I could've used later? Something I should've cherished a little more? Even if it didn't give me everything I needed - did it need to be discarded? It had a reason for being there, in my little life, I'm sure, even if it was cluttered with the rest of the mess of cd's bought for only one song, the cute candle-y lanterns I honestly have no room for, and my thoughts and fears and loves and dreams and high-strung personality. I'm not really a pack rat per se - I just don't often get rid of things that don't do anything more but take up space and when it's time, those pangs of 'what if's' hover over me relentlessly so I just put off making any decisions about them. Once I do, I'm never sure if I made the right one or not. With all that can be collected in life, how do you determine what is really valuable and worth keeping?

Life shifts. It's a really good thing. Change is necessary. I grow so much because of it, especially when the shifts are difficult.. whether it be changing residences or the shuffle of people who come and go within my life. I inevitably just get thru it - pack things up, move on, out with the old and in with the new - cuz I have no other choice. We wouldn't learn anything if it was easy.. but God, sometimes, I wish life came with some friendly cleaners who swooped in and helped pick up the pieces or at least did the mopping. I've made some really good strides in the last couple of years.. becoming a better, stronger, and smarter person. I know I don't have all the answers, I know I'm not perfect. I think I'm slightly OCD, I can be too emotional or get too attached, I certainly have way too much money invested in too many hair products, and I can be a bit of a control freak, but I'm still proud of myself and what I've accomplished in life. Obviously, there's still more work to be done - namely, contemplating further if pizza and beer are enough of a bribe to coerce my strong, male friends into helping me move the heavy furniture objects on Saturday or if I have to flash them to boot. Crossing my fingers the former will suffice.