The other day, two friends I have not spoken to in months called me. Out of nowhere. Within hours of each other. Huh?
I had let go of them. I had reached out to them, gotten no response, and moved on with my life.
When I thought about them all the time, nobody was calling. The silence was deafening. I think that they intuitively started sensing nothing from me and subconsciously filled the void themselves by reaching out.
Then there is the furniture issue. My ultimate goal is to only have a one-bedroom-apartment’s worth of stuff. I got rid of the couch and Barry’s chair when he passed. The couch was thirty years old and had no cushioning left and Barry’s chair always put me to sleep when I sat in it within the first five minutes. No matter the time of day or how caffeinated I was. I assert the chair had a spirit of sleep attached to it.
Now I want a futon for my living room. But I am not getting one until Volunteers of America comes and takes the cedar chest, a dresser, and an end table. To add a piece of furniture and simultaneously reduce the total amount of furniture requires that I get rid of more than I acquire. So first the VoA, then Art Van. One thing at a time.