I didn't clean up this weekend. Well, I tidied up. And I finished packing up the things my sister said she'd store for me since my new apartment has decidedly less storage. And I did half a sink full of dishes (I think I need to borrow my niece. I hear she's in a cleaning mood -- speaking of which, when is Aunty Day?). Ooh -- I walked to the grocery store (yes, the walking part is significant) and bought actual items of food rather than frozen or prepackaged stuff.
And I stood at various vantage points in my apartment and made a mental list of what I'll sell if I'm going to Toronto -- which is pretty much everything except my tvs (one will come with me), my couch, my end table and my coffee table. I may even dump my closet of clothes in its entirety (let's face it, very little in there even looks good on the hanger.) There is something really liberating about wiping the slate clean and starting over somewhere else. I'm a year away from being 40 years old, and feel like I've pretty much run this life into the ground about as far as it can go. Maybe I can get it right in the next 20 years. I don't count the first 20 -- so much of it was dictated by academic requirements that it didn't really leave room for individual choices (... which could be why I did more with my life in my first 20 years than I have in my last 20. I peaked personally at age 20. That in itself is so very depressing)
Aren't I about a decade too young for a mid-life crisis?
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