I'm pretend moving. I'm undergoing some Significant Life Stress and I can't focus. So I've decided it would be in my best interest to move from my tiny 1,300 square foot cluttered, lived-in home to an adorable sparse little cottage filled with nothing but charm... and happy kids... and warm comfy beds. You get the picture.
And I'm tired of stuff. Stuff, meaning, papers on my dining table, shoes scattered across my living room, cabinets filled with Useful Items we don't use, and hidden piles of things that go crunch underfoot at night. Stuff. And at the end of a crappy day, dramatically flinging myself on top of an unmade bed covered in laundry lacks the emotional release I am looking for. So-over-stuff.
I'm taking this pretend move thing quite seriously. "Honey, do we want to bring these chipped coffee mugs to the new house? What about the waffle maker?" My husband Lee is playing along. He has either resigned himself to living with a delusional writer, or he's a little afraid of me. Or both. I'm truly doing a massive throw-away of our belongings. Of course, I have to secretly throw away my kids' stuff while they are not looking. They haven't noticed. Or they've resigned themselves. Or they're a little afraid.
I bought paint. Three cans of interior semi-gloss "barefoot in the sand" color paint. My new house is going to be a bright beige and a little shiny on the inside, like me.
I'm framing family photos. I will hang these photos on my newly painted walls one day soon. I'm liking this new house already. My new house is going to have freshly painted white baseboards and no footprints on the walls. I don't know about the people who lived in this house before it became new. I mean, I can see how hand prints on walls would come about. But footprints? Rumor has it that a gymnast once lived here. Rumor has it that the same gymnast will be living in the new house, too. Sheesh, I'm not giving away everything. Kids and husband can stay.
We don't have an official moving date, but the new house should be ready for occupation within the next few weeks. Already, I've marked our territory with a single freshly painted wall. Bright beige and a little bit shiny. Barefoot in the sand.