Meditations on Moving Furniture

I rearranged my furniture today for many sad reasons…

1. I’ve recently been attacked by spiders (I’m talking huge swelling welts on my legs — this is not at all exaggerated) and thought the deep, all-the-way-under-the-bed clean was a good way to go to get rid of them.

2. My room still smells a bit like a cat box and I thought the deep, all-the-way-under-the-bed clean was a good way to get rid of the odor.

3. The carpet is coming up in this one high-traffic area to the left of where my bed used to be and I wanted to cover it up.

4. For some reason I’ve always associated rearranging my room with life-altering  changes and making new starts.

It’s true. Rearranging furniture is a very spiritual journey for me. And, you know, if you’re getting eaten alive by spiders and breathing in year-old kitty litter residue its really not a bad idea to clean things up a bit. I mean, wow, that’s not just one but two poisons I removed from my life today. I’m probably going to live way longer now.

Okay, okay, I’m being silly. I think the moving furniture thing is just my way of controlling my space. Maybe I like rearranging things because it feels like I’m taking control of it. And by it I mean my room but (of course) also my life.

I dunno, I suppose there’s something to be said for nesting. It’s only natural to want to make a home for yourself. But why am I always changing mine?

To be honest I really don’t know. It probably has something to do with being in my 20s and without love. Or maybe I’m bored and it’s a Sunday and because it wasn’t sunny sunny today I couldn’t go to the beach. Then again, maybe I’m craving a larger change in my life, a change that’s too overwhelming to think about just yet, so I started pushing furniture around instead of doing something more constructive like, I dunno, writing a novel. (Ha!)

Hmm…You know, that’s probably it. Damn.

Aren’t blogs annoying? I dunno, about anyone else but they make me want to examine myself and my life and all the dumb meaningless things I do and assign them all meanings. But damn, if you can’t be self-involved in your blog where can you be?  (Well, a private journal I suppose but we won’t get into that.)

So here’s the bottom line–the spiders and the smell in my room are evidence of something. Evidence of how much I neglect certain fundamental parts of getting along in this world because (like many people) I’d much rather spend my time doing other things.

Things like going to beach, reading books, writing blogs, getting drunk, working out, making plans that I will probably never see through to the end… (and on and on and on and on).

Sigh, okay, moving on (and on and on and on and on)…

My plan = This.

Well, actually this:

I will enjoy my new furniture arrangement (which is kickass by the way) along with my enhanced health, sense of control, and er, purpose. But I won’t stop there. I’ll start looking for new, more constructive ways to take control of my life and start doing some more rearranging.

For instance, I should probably take my car to the shop. And my bike. And also go the doctor. (Which I haven’t done in over three years.) And also pay off my debt. And maybe I could learn how to, you know, have a budget and stuff.

Too bad none of that is nearly as much fun as moving my bed so that it’s diagonal from the window.

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