esmee

moving moving moving moving
i hate moving. i don't know which is worse the actual moving part or the packing.
they're both terrible. i would just really like to live somewhere for more than a year. someplace permanent and clean and nice and not swarming with transient flotsam and mismatched furniture.
its a very frustrating stage of life that i've been waiting to graduate from for a few years now, approximately since the day that college officially ended...every month i would pore over catalogs filled with elegant dark furniture, mentally painting the rooms of my future abode in breathtaking, stark tones to match the modern yet comfy designs i would come up with for all the rooms.
after a while i stopped looking at catalogs, i stopped browsing in antique stores, pottery barn...ikea. why should i have a salt and pepper shaker set shaped to look like a pair of whimsical pigs playing the violin and accordian respectively when i rarely use my table for anything other than a clothes rack/trash pile/mail holder.
Civility is sorely lacking in my existence. i think i was under the impression that the niceties would come later when i have a house, a mortgage a nice car that isn't a familial hand-me-down...
now i think that the little things will have to come first, like maybe i wouldn't feel so untethered and undone if maybe the kitchen counter was clean and the laundry folded and put away rather than piling messily on the dryer. and maybe i could sit down to a civilized repast if i had napkins and placemats (that weren't squished into a pile on the dryer).
i think i have been waiting for some bigger thing to come along and organize everything for me and now i see that i'll have to do it myself...starting with the little things...like salt and pepper shakers.