Taking Up Space

Well, I sold my bed for $30.00.  Remember last time you sold your bed for $30.00?  What, you never did that?  You might say I got carried away.  I would explain, but it's boring.  See, (OK, I'm explaining) we have been meaning to get a new mattress for years, but we always squander our money on trips instead.  Something about knowing I couldn't have a new mattress (planning a trip to NYC as we speak...) made me get rid of the old one anyway.  Makes no sense, but I also have a thing for empty rooms.  I love 'em.  Maybe because a room seems cleaner when it's bare.  When I move things around, there is so much dust!  I need somebody frank to come over and tell me what needs cleaning.  Maybe Swimsuit Lady (we'll call her "Teri," mostly because that is her actual name) could come over and say, "That lampshade is dust-Y!" and "When was the last time you vacuumed under your bed?"  That might help me clean like a normal person instead of starting out with a damp rag and ending up with a stranger driving away with my bed in the back of her truck.

Not that I have any regrets.  We all lounged around on the great expanse of carpet that used to be under that bothersome bed, and it was fun.  Some families take on the motto "We can do hard things."  I don't want to do hard things.  That sounds hard.  My motto is "We can do ridiculous things."  We now have a bedroom that is empty except for a brand-new paint job and a patio set, called The Cafe.  We have a room in the basement that is completely devoid of furniture that we call, for no reason, The Music Room.  And we have a master bedroom that doesn't have a bed.  We now call it Tziporah's Room because of the beautiful banner Tiffany made for her.

What I may be doing is recreating a fun experience I had as a child.  We finished the room over the garage when I was in 5th grade.  For awhile it was empty, and newly painted and carpeted with the most lovely mauve berber carpet.  I worked on my state report (Connecticut) with my encyclopedias spread out all over the vast, empty room.  The room was called The Train Room because my dad was going to set up his model trains in it.  The Train Room smelled so fresh and new, I just kept working on that report until I had a folder stuffed with mounds of extra credit.  And to this day, I love to sprawl out on a great expanse of clean carpet and just take up space.

As much as I crave nothingness, there are certain things I'll keep.  Like my kids and Scott and...probably some other stuff that I can't think of right now.