A Moving Journal: Entry Two

Selection by Exhaustion 

I'm going to leave this paragraph in here, even though I think I fixed it:

I don’t know how many of you, if any will actually see this post. One result of moving induced exhaustion was the deletion of all the email addresses to whom the Wall is sent. There may be a way to retrieve them within the Evernote app, but I think I need to be on a computer to do so. Being restricted to my phone and tablet for the time being, that attempt will have to put on hold. The possible silver lining to this dark cloud is the fact that while The Wall is sent to about 85 folks, only 35 or so of you actually look at it. Yes! Blogger does tell me that, but unfortunately or fortunately, depending on your feelings regarding digital privacy, Blogger does not tell me who the 35 are!  Anyhow, no use worrying about that until I am back in front of my computer - sometime next month.

But that is not the selection by exhaustion issue that concerns me at the moment. One of the most vexing issues of moving house - I like the British version - is the “what to keep/what to leave” dichotomy. It is influenced by a variety of variables - some pragmatic, like how does the space being moved to differ from the space currently lived in?  And is that favorite piece of driftwood from Santa Fe worth the cost of moving it from North Carolina to Chicago? But the pragmatic is inextricably interwoven with the emotional.

After a good night’s sleep, breakfast and a cup of coffee or an energy drink, making those decisions is well within your capabilities. But eight or nine hours later, after many such decisions and trips to Goodwill and the dump, exhaustion raises its evil head, or more accurately, lays down its weary head and the possibility of bad decisions runs amuck. 

Like great, grand Aunt Cecilia’s wedding dress. “God, the fabric and the faux pearls alone weigh a ton. And those are moth holes! Besides the woman died in 1837!” And there goes Aunt Cecilia into the Goodwill box.

It is fortunate that neither children or pets share our current abode, or Aunt Cecilia might have some company!