Hassles.

Hassles.

First of all, I haven't had to look for an apartment in over 12 years, so to say this current process is frustrating and annoying would be an understatement. But that's actually relatively minor next to the next HUGE realization I've just made.

What the hell am I gonna sit on when I move?

Over the years most of my furniture has disappeared or been disposed of. The main reason for this was the fact that Photogal had both taste and a bunch of her own much nicer furniture, and I had been collecting a motley crew of mismatched items for years. When she would suggest we get rid of something that was mine I would always half-heartedly say, "But what if we break-up ... won't I need that?" And seconds later I would realize how stupid such an excuse sounded in the face of a long-term relationship. Some might say that was an early sign things might go awry, but I actually think it's a testament to my pack-rat nature, and wasn't at all a reflection of the current or future status of my commitment to our relationship.

But now I actually am moving out and have discovered I have LOTS of crap like magazines, DVDs, books, CDs, and a couple mismatched sets of silverware I managed to forget at the bottom of a box in our basement. Unfortunately I have very little of those day to day items one actually uses like couches, beds, or television sets. I do have a blender I never use though*, so thank goodness for that.

Seriously though, I'm 35 but feel like I've been launched back to the same status, living-space decor-wise, I inhabited when I was just out of college.** This is frustrating to say the least.

*O.K., she doesn't know it yet, but I'm actually letting Photogal have my blender because I know she actually loves it and really enjoys making smoothies in it. What can I say? I'm a nice guy.
**Well, more accurately, the status I had when I initially dropped out of college. I was actually pretty well outfitted when I actually graduated 6 year later than I should have.