"They're never holding you as close"

 practical:  hopefully we're going to move this year. This will entail moving a gazillion books and at this point, 7 cheapass staples 6 footers of uncertain age and bowed shelves,  We also have two other less standard bookcases, and Abundance has one much newer six footer.   I've always imagined some day getting nicer bookcases, but one-by-one makes me feel oddly guilty about the remaining ones (as in I'm worried about their feelings, I think), and one fell swoop seems too expensive.  Hopefully, when we do move and evaluate everything to see if it's worth moving (ie not the couch) we can come to some sort of consensus on what to do. 

 

Grownup furniture appeals to me (and I've hit a point in my life where if it's not only wood, I'm not going to rocking furniture of unknown provenance) but so does not caring about the condition of our furniture.  Our massive dining room table is covered with scuff marks, dice divots and mysterious scratches.  Light's and my dressers are from my parents (we think) who maybe got them out of one of my grandparents house, the cracked side table is definitely a magazine rack from my mother's mother's house that someone started to refinish but never finished)  So now, I try to buy things that are weathered enough to stand up to the depredations of my animal horde.  (tv stand a yes, coffee table a no)  And we either have a dog-colored couch or a couch-colored dog.

 

Emotional: I have some weird commodifcation ideas about energy and asking. I've got this half-thought out metaphor, where I'm afraid like I might build up a tolerance to my migraine meds, people might build up tolerances to me.  (yeah, I think that means that my needs are migraines? or I am?)  So much like I try not to take my meds, I try not to be needy, I try not to ask for things I try not to be messy ( (or I ask for them all the time and consider that part of my personality) Lately I've realized that no one knows what I'm not asking for, so I'm not actually building up credit.  Maybe I'm just lying. Maybe I want to pretend to be a martyr?. I've tried to be very clear with myself about how things I'm doing get me nothing, that I'm doing the things that I want to do because the kind of person I want to be would do them. But then I have to wonder if there's anything that gets me (or anyone) anything,   And I know "get" isn't the right verb and it's not really how I think, except when it is.  Except when feel like I'm crumbling and want to figure out ways to shore up the walls.  Or when I feel like some unmoored kite waiting for winds, favorable or not.