This weekend is the big blow out, and I keep having visions of myself chasing shoppers down the street, trying to buy back my stuff. Alternately, I see myself sobbing quietly in the bathroom. I know neither of those things will really happen.
I've been told that when I have these repeating negative images I'm supposed to freeze-frame the image in my brain, burn it up like in Cinema Paradiso, and replace it with something calm and relaxing. Unfortunately, people really will be walking away with some of my treasured items tomorrow, and I can't burn that.
I could just burn my stuff, and then no one could have it! Oh, but that would be psycho-- also, it would create too much air pollution. I'm just hoping that the feeling of cold, hard cash in my hot little hand will help me brave the storms.
Actually, giving away most of my belongings has been fairly cathartic, and I'm hoping that we'll be able to live more simply in Massachusetts, without all the clutter. Dare to Dream!
So much to do while Buckaroo is sleeping and the big kids are at school. TTFN, as they would say.
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