Thanks, O

So much for contentment; it didn't last long. Does it ever? Should it? There are more Illinois tales to tell, but I have something else on my mind today. 

Lots of people have asked me if I miss my apartment and the stuff that filled it. I can honestly answer "no". And it feels really good to be able to say that. Even though the homesick pangs get stronger and closer together as the days go by, they are for the PEOPLE  and the ENERGY of NYC, not the books or sofa to which I can no longer lay claim. 

Now I'm going to tell a story about a trip to The Container Store, but stick with me; it'll come together. My sister needed to pick up something at the aforementioned organization emporium, so we stopped in after dinner last night. I clearly recall a trip I took to a branch of this store in Manhattan around the same time last year. It was a rainy day and I spent a couple of hours making sure to walk down every aisle, so as not to miss anything. And I also put many things in my basket: rolls of beautiful wrapping paper, irresistible "stocking stuffer" items, a mini vacuum for keyboards, etc. 

Just as clear in my mind is the day I cleared out the drawers and closet of my apartment, in the preparation of leaving, and wondered what to do with all of these things. I had enough wrapping paper for the next 3 Christmases, which meant I most likely hadn't needed those rolls I picked up at TCS. The vacuum hadn't been used once; my laptop's keyboard remains kinda dusty to this day. Some of these things I passed on to others, hoping they will find some usefulness. Some of it I didn't mind tossing right in the trash. I was angry at myself for wasting money I didn't have to waste and for taking up space I didn't have to spare in my home.

So, during this visit to TCS last night, I noticed right off the bat how familiar everything was. The whole holiday set-up, the bins of cute and clever and stocking-worthy items. I also noticed that while I enjoyed browsing through every aisle just like last year, I didn't feel the same compulsion to HAVE those things which were displayed on the shelves. And not only because I have no place to put them. I really don't desire things in the same way I once did. 

This is all good, right? I think so, too. But I think it's lame that I do. I don't want to feel a sense of pride or accomplishment for not wanting what is, essentially, useless crap. I also don't want to feel the need to punish myself should I find myself wanting a bit of that crap, whether it's tomorrow or a year from now. I'm not interested in living like a monk, just in being more mindful of how I spend my money and how I live in my space. I just want to feel at peace with my decisions; no judgements, of either the positive or negative variety.

 I have this thought that since I'm working really hard to stop beating myself up for making mistakes, I also shouldn't be giving myself mental high-fives for doing some trivial little thing like not wanting things I can't afford or fit in my backpack. When I shared these feeling with cousin O earlier today, he told me he couldn't see anything wrong with doling out a little self-praise once in a while. In most cases, I'd say I'm right. In most cases, O would probably say I'm right. But in THIS case, I sorta want him to be right. Because I could use the positive reinforcement. This ontheroad thing might be starting to get to me. Just a little bit.