George Carlin once said that your house is just a place for your stuff. I always enjoyed that routine, always thinking "I don't have that much stuff." Well that all changes when you decide to move across the country and downsize to an apartment. We decided that we are going to sell/get rid of as much stuff as we can. Originally it was a really easy thought to wrap my brain around. "I'm not emotionally attached to most of this stuff, hell...it's just stuff." Uh huh...yeah, right. I sold my grandfather clock this weekend, and actually had to call my parents after it was gone to help deal with the guilt. My father said it best "Scott, it's a piece of furniture, not a family heirloom" and he's right, but it didn't make the feeling suck any less. I experienced a similar feeling as I disassembled my 55 gallon fish tank. Hell, I hadn't cleaned the thing in a month, I shouldn't be attached to it...ugh. I never expected to feel this way about "stuff", but I do. I'm still getting rid of it, but I didn't expect to feel any attachment. Live and learn I guess.
I still haven't heard anything about my transfer. I feel like I'm walking a fine line between being proactive and being annoying. I know this for sure, patience is hard...and being in limbo sucks. The silver lining...I still have a job, so it's not all bad.
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