When you absolutely, positively HAVE to have internet access
Hi there,
So, I have internet access at home. I also have internet access at the beach, in the mountains, and anywhere else that Verizon has cell towers. I broke down on Saturday and bought a wireless connect card and 30 days of service, which ought to give me plenty of time to get my actual home internet provider straightened out.
I also still need to get my home alarm activated.
And unpack the books/DVDs/CDs that are boxed up in the garage alongside the Mountain of TCB's Stuff.
And put away the extra sheets and towels in the cabinets in the laundry room (no proper linen closet).
And buy groceries. (Does anyone have a sample list of what should be in any "well stocked larder"? I haven't gone grocery shopping or prepared my own meals in such a long time that I've really no idea what to get.)
And bake cookies so that I can go around introducing myself to my neighbors in our little courtyard. They've all been in their homes since October and I just moved in a couple of weeks ago, so I'm the odd one out. With the four cats. And the missing husband. (You can see why the cookies are CTQ as we say at work. That's Critical to Quality for those not in the know.)
And finish getting all of the lingering stuff in the condo either: 1. Into the trash (about 25%), 2. To Goodwill (about 50%), or 3. Into the new house (25% or less, including my clothes).
Allow me to digress for a moment (yes, because I'm usually so linear in these posts!)...
You know what I really love? Well, yes, there's TCB, and the cats, and my family, and my dear friends, and my job (most days), and Alcott (crap, how long has it been since I've seen him???), and life in general. But now there's also my love for my beautiful, clean, uncluttered home. Although half of the garage is piled high with boxes, the rest of the house is tidy and happy, and it makes me inordinately happy to tell you that. Sitting on my lovely (now clean!) couch with new red corduroy pillows, watching telly and eating dinner (I don't have placemats at the new house yet, so no eating at the table), I honestly come very close to Nirvana. If only TCB were there, too, I really can't imagine a way I could be happier. So, basically, I am resolved not to clutter and junk up this home. I've lived without the stuff in the condo for weeks now and, other than needing more shoe options, I really haven't missed much.
The clothes in sizes I don't fit but hope to one day? No room. No need. Someone will fall in love when they go to Goodwill and find Pamela Dennis and Isaac Mizrahi adorableness.
The crafting supplies I haven't used since the early '90s which make me feel guilty when I look at them? Trash. Do not open the lid. Do not attempt to sort. Straight to the trash.
The tons and tons of costume jewelry I never wear? If it hasn't seen the light of day in a year, it's going to Goodwill. (Not sure about the real stuff I never wear...might have to hold on to that for now.)
The souvenir cups, glasses, and mugs gathered over a lifetime of holding possessions in higher regard than my self esteem and happiness? Goodwill. Or recycle bin, if appropriate. No matter how cute or how many memories...I don't need them. I have more glasses and mugs that go with my two china patterns than I need, much less a motley collection of stuff that doesn't match.
Begone junk...sayonara stuff...I declare myself officially over you. You served your purpose (making me happy when I couldn't do that by myself) and now you need to move on to someone else who needs you and will cherish you.
OK, so back to my original rant of things I need to do...
Get a lamp for the other bedside table in my bedroom. This hasn't been a high priority because I only need the one, but TCB might want to read when he comes home to visit next month.
It's been 21 weeks, 3 days, 6 hours, and 15 minutes since I last saw my husband. Felt his arms around me. Breathed deeply the scent of his skin. Frantically, desperately pressed my lips to his. It's been so long that I hardly ever notice the emptiness because I've grown used to it.
Except when I'm sitting in our beautiful new house alone and the spectre of another night without him takes my breath away with sudden, sharp pain that leaves me crumpled on the floor, cats nudging me with their wet noses to make sure I'm OK.
The fires alone. Halloween alone. Thanksgiving, holiday parties, Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day - I was alone for all of them. Finding out that we'd gotten our new house. Signing the paperwork. Moving his things. Moving my things. Choosing where to put furniture. Alone. If I were single, all of these would be normal and fine. I'm not single! After 40 years of searching, I've found my soulmate and he's not here and that's not OK. I'm not OK.
But I will be. Two weeks plus three days. I can do this - it's all downhill, Baby.
So, I have internet access at home. I also have internet access at the beach, in the mountains, and anywhere else that Verizon has cell towers. I broke down on Saturday and bought a wireless connect card and 30 days of service, which ought to give me plenty of time to get my actual home internet provider straightened out.
I also still need to get my home alarm activated.
And unpack the books/DVDs/CDs that are boxed up in the garage alongside the Mountain of TCB's Stuff.
And put away the extra sheets and towels in the cabinets in the laundry room (no proper linen closet).
And buy groceries. (Does anyone have a sample list of what should be in any "well stocked larder"? I haven't gone grocery shopping or prepared my own meals in such a long time that I've really no idea what to get.)
And bake cookies so that I can go around introducing myself to my neighbors in our little courtyard. They've all been in their homes since October and I just moved in a couple of weeks ago, so I'm the odd one out. With the four cats. And the missing husband. (You can see why the cookies are CTQ as we say at work. That's Critical to Quality for those not in the know.)
And finish getting all of the lingering stuff in the condo either: 1. Into the trash (about 25%), 2. To Goodwill (about 50%), or 3. Into the new house (25% or less, including my clothes).
Allow me to digress for a moment (yes, because I'm usually so linear in these posts!)...
You know what I really love? Well, yes, there's TCB, and the cats, and my family, and my dear friends, and my job (most days), and Alcott (crap, how long has it been since I've seen him???), and life in general. But now there's also my love for my beautiful, clean, uncluttered home. Although half of the garage is piled high with boxes, the rest of the house is tidy and happy, and it makes me inordinately happy to tell you that. Sitting on my lovely (now clean!) couch with new red corduroy pillows, watching telly and eating dinner (I don't have placemats at the new house yet, so no eating at the table), I honestly come very close to Nirvana. If only TCB were there, too, I really can't imagine a way I could be happier. So, basically, I am resolved not to clutter and junk up this home. I've lived without the stuff in the condo for weeks now and, other than needing more shoe options, I really haven't missed much.
The clothes in sizes I don't fit but hope to one day? No room. No need. Someone will fall in love when they go to Goodwill and find Pamela Dennis and Isaac Mizrahi adorableness.
The crafting supplies I haven't used since the early '90s which make me feel guilty when I look at them? Trash. Do not open the lid. Do not attempt to sort. Straight to the trash.
The tons and tons of costume jewelry I never wear? If it hasn't seen the light of day in a year, it's going to Goodwill. (Not sure about the real stuff I never wear...might have to hold on to that for now.)
The souvenir cups, glasses, and mugs gathered over a lifetime of holding possessions in higher regard than my self esteem and happiness? Goodwill. Or recycle bin, if appropriate. No matter how cute or how many memories...I don't need them. I have more glasses and mugs that go with my two china patterns than I need, much less a motley collection of stuff that doesn't match.
Begone junk...sayonara stuff...I declare myself officially over you. You served your purpose (making me happy when I couldn't do that by myself) and now you need to move on to someone else who needs you and will cherish you.
OK, so back to my original rant of things I need to do...
Get a lamp for the other bedside table in my bedroom. This hasn't been a high priority because I only need the one, but TCB might want to read when he comes home to visit next month.
It's been 21 weeks, 3 days, 6 hours, and 15 minutes since I last saw my husband. Felt his arms around me. Breathed deeply the scent of his skin. Frantically, desperately pressed my lips to his. It's been so long that I hardly ever notice the emptiness because I've grown used to it.
Except when I'm sitting in our beautiful new house alone and the spectre of another night without him takes my breath away with sudden, sharp pain that leaves me crumpled on the floor, cats nudging me with their wet noses to make sure I'm OK.
The fires alone. Halloween alone. Thanksgiving, holiday parties, Christmas, New Year's, Valentine's Day - I was alone for all of them. Finding out that we'd gotten our new house. Signing the paperwork. Moving his things. Moving my things. Choosing where to put furniture. Alone. If I were single, all of these would be normal and fine. I'm not single! After 40 years of searching, I've found my soulmate and he's not here and that's not OK. I'm not OK.
But I will be. Two weeks plus three days. I can do this - it's all downhill, Baby.
Comments
http://www.glamourmagazine.co.uk/ask-the-experts/default.aspx?id=59550
http://asliceofcherrypie.blogspot.com/2006/09/my-kitchen-essentials.html
Yes, you can! Breathe deeply!!
Four more whole days have gone by since you wrote this -- so TCB's homecoming is that much closer -- you CAN do it!!