Friday, May 22, 2009

Making a commitment to your furniture!

I'm afraid of commitment. There, I said it. I'm not talking about to people, because that's a more personal subject that I'm going to avoid completely so I don't have to confront it, but I am afraid of committing to places, inanimate objects, and occasionally jobs. The idea of permanently temping (bit of an oxy moron so bear with me) will always be alluring to me. It took me two years of living here to buy myself a mattress. I acquired all the furniture I have through relatives who bought better furniture to replace it with, and although I find said furniture very attractive/comfortable for napping/expensive looking/capable of containing lots of things, I also secretly resent it very strongly. It's nice to have things, but it also makes the idea of becoming homeless more terrifying because it's much harder to be homeless while carrying around a queen-size bed, armoire, and leather sofa. They wouldn't fit into a shopping cart. If I moved somewhere, I'd have to figure out how they would arrive there too. In other words, the largest commitment I have made in my life so far is to my furniture, and this feels wholly unsettling. It is also the longest term relationship I've been in, which is a separate issue that won't be dealt with on this blog ever.

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