Well, I've been packing up the basement. The idea is to pack everything I want to keep and store it away, then auction off everything else.
The pile to auction is getting awfully large. I wish I could have a yard sale instead. *g* Maybe I should check with Mom and Dad as to when the July yard sales are in Bethel... that might get rid of some of the stuff, especially the clothes. (HEY! Mom and Dad!! What do you think?!?!?!!) I think that's a good idea, myself!
Okay. So the one apartment didn't pan out, and I'm now going to look into commuting. Hopefully sometime this weekend I'll get to drive to Canal Winchester and check out the town. I think I might like to live there.
The idea is to find an apartment that's the upstairs of a house or the downstairs or something. I don't really want to be in a "normal" apartment complex. Unless it's old and cool like this one, of course.
Anyway, I'm packing up the basement first. I figure that will be the hardest to do, considering I'm not sure how much space I'm going to end up having for stuff, but I'm keeping the next three years in mind and trying to work from there.
If I don't think I'll use it in the next three years, then off to the auction pile it will go. I'm done with useless clutter. Now, useful clutter I can keep. :)
I think the office will be the last thing to be packed. At least the obvious things; I'm going to pack up the file cabinet and the excess stuff. Well, I guess my summer clothes are going to be last. I'm packing up my winter clothes and storing them. I don't see why I can't do that, after all. It's not like I'm going to be wearing them until after I move.
Today I realized something about myself. I might be choking on fear as I contemplate this--the fear of the unknown; if I can really make it on my own; if I can really stay on budget and keep my expenses down so I can get rid of the hated credit cards, the fear of being robbed, or not knowing what to do, or failing--but I tend to mask my fear with fake bravery. Fake courage, I guess.
Well, the future is one big question mark. I can say 2005 until I'm blue in the face, but if I sit back on my butt and wait for something to happen, I won't be writing full-time in 2005. I can't predict the future; no one can, but I can sit here and say that even though the future is full of fears, uncertainties, and dreads (or FUDS, as my boss likes to call them), if I let those FUDS rule my life and actions, I will get nowhere.
Vicki's right. You have to believe. You have to be an optimist; otherwise you're going to let those FUDS swamp you and you're not going to get anywhere.
It takes a bit sometimes to reaffirm my beliefs. To convince myself that staying here is not a good thing, even when he leaves me alone. To give myself permission to fear, but to not allow that fear to overwhelm me until I can do nothing but sit here and ignore the obvious warning signs.
I'm afraid. Right now, I have no idea what will happen when I walk out this door for the last time. I could very well get hit by a car and killed, run over by a train, lose everything in a fire... But that could happen to anyone. *g*
The trick is to acknowledge the fears, give voice to them (God and I talk about my fears all the time; one good thing about the morning commute) and then lay (or wrestle) them to rest.
I can't predict the future. But I can believe in the future I want to have.
Thanks for reminding me, Vicki.
The pile to auction is getting awfully large. I wish I could have a yard sale instead. *g* Maybe I should check with Mom and Dad as to when the July yard sales are in Bethel... that might get rid of some of the stuff, especially the clothes. (HEY! Mom and Dad!! What do you think?!?!?!!) I think that's a good idea, myself!
Okay. So the one apartment didn't pan out, and I'm now going to look into commuting. Hopefully sometime this weekend I'll get to drive to Canal Winchester and check out the town. I think I might like to live there.
The idea is to find an apartment that's the upstairs of a house or the downstairs or something. I don't really want to be in a "normal" apartment complex. Unless it's old and cool like this one, of course.
Anyway, I'm packing up the basement first. I figure that will be the hardest to do, considering I'm not sure how much space I'm going to end up having for stuff, but I'm keeping the next three years in mind and trying to work from there.
If I don't think I'll use it in the next three years, then off to the auction pile it will go. I'm done with useless clutter. Now, useful clutter I can keep. :)
I think the office will be the last thing to be packed. At least the obvious things; I'm going to pack up the file cabinet and the excess stuff. Well, I guess my summer clothes are going to be last. I'm packing up my winter clothes and storing them. I don't see why I can't do that, after all. It's not like I'm going to be wearing them until after I move.
Today I realized something about myself. I might be choking on fear as I contemplate this--the fear of the unknown; if I can really make it on my own; if I can really stay on budget and keep my expenses down so I can get rid of the hated credit cards, the fear of being robbed, or not knowing what to do, or failing--but I tend to mask my fear with fake bravery. Fake courage, I guess.
Well, the future is one big question mark. I can say 2005 until I'm blue in the face, but if I sit back on my butt and wait for something to happen, I won't be writing full-time in 2005. I can't predict the future; no one can, but I can sit here and say that even though the future is full of fears, uncertainties, and dreads (or FUDS, as my boss likes to call them), if I let those FUDS rule my life and actions, I will get nowhere.
Vicki's right. You have to believe. You have to be an optimist; otherwise you're going to let those FUDS swamp you and you're not going to get anywhere.
It takes a bit sometimes to reaffirm my beliefs. To convince myself that staying here is not a good thing, even when he leaves me alone. To give myself permission to fear, but to not allow that fear to overwhelm me until I can do nothing but sit here and ignore the obvious warning signs.
I'm afraid. Right now, I have no idea what will happen when I walk out this door for the last time. I could very well get hit by a car and killed, run over by a train, lose everything in a fire... But that could happen to anyone. *g*
The trick is to acknowledge the fears, give voice to them (God and I talk about my fears all the time; one good thing about the morning commute) and then lay (or wrestle) them to rest.
I can't predict the future. But I can believe in the future I want to have.
Thanks for reminding me, Vicki.
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