#Write31Days: 15 • move

Saturday 15 October: move

Why not write about the time-worn, exciting (to me) experience of a move to another house, apt, flat, condo? Maybe in a different part of town, a different city, state or country? I'm one of those rare people who loves to move, but by that I mean sorting through everything, donating and discarding what no longer works (even if I've lived in that place only a sweet few months), packing up the keepers, and then making a way into a new mode of waking up mornings, turning in late evenings, savoring breakfast, probably painting a few walls and finding a handful of new or new to me decorations.

That's what I love to do, "love" as in a high level of commitment to the activity. Preferably staying put for a year or two or three, but not necessarily if something better offers itself. What I do not love, like, condone, or more than tolerate is having a lot of my belongings in storage. As usual, before leaving Previous City I intentionally sorted and donated more than I'd care to list here or anywhere, and in the process, three of the pieces I'd planned to keep forever disappeared, though it's a long sad story that's not as simple as it may appear on screen. I am tired and weary and fed up with the spare bed, extra room, stray couch routine. One of my housemates from three (I think, but not sure how to count) abodes ago texted me knew what I meant because she'd worked as a buyer of international goods and knew about – insert long list of expensive, costly, rare, pricey china, paintings, textiles, artifacts. That's not at all, not remotely what I meant. I want to live with my $10 set of stoneware and the pictures I bought at 99 Cents Only.