So two guys just stopped by and picked up my coffee table (plus matching side table).
I actually hugged the coffee table before they arrived.
I almost *cried* when I shut the door behind them, turned around and saw the big empty space in my living room. You’d think I’d carved and constructed those stupid tables with my own damn hands.
I would be a sucky Buddhist. I get too attached to material things, mostly because I attach too many memories to even the most trivial items. The high cabinet and the free-standing kitchen unit, I won’t be as sad to see leave my hands– but it took me TWO MONTHS to find that coffee table. I suffered the angst of coffee-table-lessness for two months because I was holding out to find the *perfect* one, and after painstakingly scouring the classifieds (FOR TWO MONTHS), I found it.
And now it’s gone.
It’s the sensible thing to do, I understand this. Two less items to have to move, and I really won’t have a need, or even place, for them in Las Vegas. The same goes for the couch (which didn’t take nearly as long to find, but I still put a lot of effort into finding this one). The day someone leaves this apartment with my couch in their possession, I’m probably going to pace around the empty living room for an hour, then curl up into a ball on the empty floor and whimper. Piteously.
And I still haven’t figured out how to handle the Mythical Spider. Shit.