Consignment is coming in the morning to pick up my big furniture pieces. My dining room table from Old Home Supply in FW; the armoire that is my pantry - the first real, major piece of furniture I ever bought; my beautiful, girly mirrored Pottery Barn night stands that have reflected my bedroom chandeliers; the little wooden chair with the fireflies; the sideboard that Tom and I built from lumber reclaimed from my neighbors' deck; the long, narrow, outdoor cedar dining table (another BA/Tom collaboration) - the scene of great outdoor dinner parties, the big, heavy wooden candlestick from Legacy Trading Company that I picked up on a dog walk -- someone put it out in bulky trash and I loved it enough to heave it home...
I came home from work today and emptied my pantry and night stands, and pushed them and the other pieces into the dining room. I'm not gonna lie, this is a difficult piece of the journey. I'm not sure why. It isn't the money. Maybe it's because these pieces reflect so much of my personality. Maybe it's because they are more than tubs of craft supplies at an estate sale... I'm not sure. It might just be that they are physically large items that are going to leave such a void in my little Tudor. I don't know.
I have been weepy tonight though. Not sad - maybe it's relief of another huge step; maybe it's just release, knowing I'm moving down my path. I don't know. But sweet mother of Abraham Lincoln, I hope I don't cry when the guys are here loading the truck in the morning. But I probably will. I hate that.
Tonight was the only night this week that I didn't have plans. I have been consciously been taking time - making time - for fun with friends. It's good. And it was on my 2012 Manifesto to take time with friends, and hel-lo, it's still 2012. So when Christy texted me with an invitation to go out, and I had made plans to not have plans, My knee--jerk reaction was to decline. Sweat pants and Hulu called. I hemmed and hawed about it, but I went. And I'm glad I did - it was really fun: shopping and champagne at The Gypsy Wagon on Henderson (hello, cute pajama shorts - less embarrassing for travel -- and a funny card --) and then dinner and great conversation at Fireside Pies... It was just what the doctor ordered.
And when I got home and saw my dining room heaped up with furniture? A little bit less scary but I still sat on the sofa and had a short* cry. Why? I'm not sure. They are just material things. Things I don't need. Things I don't have room for, and that I don't really even use now.
I called a handful of people for support tonight while I was on a dog walk, but got voice mail. But after dinner I was rewarded with validating messages from people who love me, telling me that I am courageous, and brave and inspiring, and that they are proud of me. Words confirming what I know in my heart -- things are going as planned and that it is going to be amazing and freeing. I do believe that. I'm just wigging out a tiny bit tonight.
* it's just that my people are Nordic.
p.s. I'm donating my potting bench to Redenta's Organic Nursery. I love that place! Happy.