[He's home! He's home, and I'm blogging...and I didn't do the dishes. Pause.] Okay, after a quick conversation, he's off to email his students the info they need to write a reflection paper. In addition to being all musician-y, he teaches three sections of a course called Music and the Human Experience. For a "professor," that's border-line full load by itself. And that's just the first three hours of his MWF. I thought I was done talking about his schedule in the first paragraph...
Moving on...
My foot has been hurting all day. I finally looked at it this evening, and the makings of a large bruise are becoming visible on the top. I love mystery bruises. My shins almost always have a bruise or two or three on them. A few years ago, I discovered I used them to catch the dishwasher door when opening it. Mystery solved. But I don't have a dishwasher anymore, and haven't since we moved into Dot. I now attribute my bruised shins to climbing on counters (and the washer and dryer). I'm short. I still climb on counters to reach things. I'll do it until I'm physically unable to, and I'll have bruised shins until then, too.
A few grocery trips ago, I made the mistake of going to Whole Foods first, and buying everything on my list there. It was so convenient. So I did it again and again. My grocery budget has exploded. On one hand: convenience. On the other hand: my budget. It's a tough one. Tougher still because I used to be able to get everything I wanted while satisfying my budget between Sunflower and Walmart. Then Sprouts took over Sunflower, and the produce I used to buy from there became just about as expensive as Whole Foods. If I had all the time in the world, and could go shopping without children, budget would win, no question. It's a thorn in my side. After today's grocery trip, I feel like my budget is getting ready to punch convenience in the face. And Whole Foods was out of vegan chocolate chip cookies (again), and Kosher salt. As I was leaving with my cart full of stuff to satisfy this week's menu, I decided that WFs is basically the dreads capital of OKC.
I'm trying to figure out how to cut sentimental attachment with stuff. Is it okay to be attached to some things? Where do I draw the line? I love my great-grandmother's old desk, but it serves no purpose in my home, and because of her size, everything in Dot should be serving a purpose. Does that purpose need to be more than providing a [very likely false] sense of attachment to a person through a thing? Do I need anything more than my toothbrush, SPF 30 moisturizer (Melasma, Peeps, it's the real deal), a few changes of clothes, some shelter, and a place to sit? Most things in my life are completely luxurious when compared to the task of living a life. I can imagine what my daily life would look like with hardly a material possession to my name, and it feels so peaceful, but I will probably not be doing away with everything, so how do I find the right balance? I'm glad I live in Dot. 1138 sf is a nice size to have this struggle in.
I've been reading through The Happiness Project again (Gretchen Rubin). It's one that I started and never finished. I was reading through the chapter on marriage today, and the quote that stood out (I've heard it before) was one by Jean Cocteau:
There's no such thing as love; only proof of love.Because I am the way I am, my normal tendency would be to pick a part his words to prove that it isn't absolute, but instead it made me think of a resolution I made for 2011. The resolution was a little line that came to mind and got stuck in my head: "People don't know you're thinking about them unless you let them know." (Coincidentally, one of the other resolutions I made for that year was to "Live with Less.") Reading Cocteau's words was a timely reminder of something that has been and remains important to me. I can always do better at sharing the love I feel.
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