We survived the packout of all our stuff. Our cats survived, too. We're living with loaner furniture, which is adequate, but far from our own furniture. I was thinking this morning as I woke up on an Aerobed, our sleeping arrangements until we leave in June, that I felt weird...restless...out of place.
I am one of those people who, contrary to the popular trend, would not like to live "simply." I like my stuff. And I am a bit attached to my stuff, too. But this morning I realized it was not my furniture I'd miss, it's my artsy stuff....my toys as I like to call them. I miss the wallhangings I've made, the needlework I've had framed, and my quilts. Besides my husband and my cats, they are what make my house a home. I feel out of sorts without those touches of home. I have some artsy creations at my office at work. I think I'll bring them home and put them up until the last shipment of last minute stuff in May. I think that would make me feel less out of place.
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