Starting Over

I like to move furniture around. A lot. Really. A lot.

I had my couch perfectly placed for a respectable amount of time (whatever that means) in every possible location in my living room. What’s a respectable amount of time? A decade? A year? That’s debatable. I had gazed upon it from every angle of the room. And I had gazed from it, from every angle of the room. Without revealing how long is too long for me, it was time for yet another move after exhausting all possible living room locations.

The next (obvious) move was to try it out in every possible spot in a different room. Make that different rooms. Make that different rooms on different floors. Make that every possible spot in every room on every floor.

When all placement options had been thoroughly enjoyed but now used up, the next (obvious) move was to donate this very nice couch to a worthy cause. I mean, what else could I do at that point? We were done. The magic was gone. It’s not that it didn’t still look pretty good for its age, provide me with comfort and a place to cry in hard times. It kept quiet about my eating-a-pint-of-ice cream-with-a-spoon evenings. And it’s not that I didn’t appreciate its loyalty and commitment. I just needed a change.

I needed that excitement of watching that new couch swagger into the house, all proud and young and new. Tags hanging with no shame, protective wrapping hiding its bare fibers, begging to be ripped off. No history. No baggage. We were in love, yet still strangers in many ways. That made it exciting. Thinking of all the possibilities that lay ahead for us, some of it together, some apart. Wondering if “this is it.” Is this the one who will fit right in with all the other decorative items, be accepted and warmly loved? Able to wear casual, carefree throw pillows one minute, and luxurious, serious ones the next and look great in both?

I needed to do this for reasons that some may not understand. But if you have this gene you know what I am talking about. If you don’t, you’ve probably moved on from this blog. Maybe you’ve even taken up with my old couch, unaware of our history and time we spent together.

I operate under the notion that switching out the décor is for the good of my family. That NOT doing so is tantamount to imprisonment in a world of monotony, and living a life where seasonal styles pass you by.

I decided at some point that maybe this (talent? obsession? quirk? illness? affliction?) should be put to profitable use rather than just for the well-being of my family. Like Samantha who never used her powers for personal gain, using them only for things like ridding Darren of elephant ears or rescuing Uncle Arthur from a mid-evil castle. It was time to let others benefit from my magic.

The telling moment that I needed to create a business plan came when my kids walked in the door from school and said, “Um….mum, didn’t this room used to be the kitchen?”

I like to move furniture around. A lot.


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