Day 1 of the garage sale was a tremendous success. The spare bedroom which will be the bedroom for our foster child (if we are approved via the basement loophole) is now empty and ready to be decorated for a child. And everything that was in there falls into one of the following categories 1) sold and is gone forever; 2) will be sold tomorrow between 8 and 12; or 3) will shortly thereafter be taken to Goodwill because its not freaking coming back here E.V.E.R.
Yes, I'm feeling the purge. And the purge is good.
But I have one confession. Living away from here was not all bad. I lived with two co-workers. We drank heavily most every night. We grilled out. We sat by the pool. We swam and danced and ate and sang and lived this carefree life away from home with no bills. And last night, while packing up the last of those 'apartment' things to take to my boss's house for the garage sale, I got a whiff of a scent. Let's call it 'apartmentesque.'
I have a strong sense of smell. Always have. And so I have emotional reactions to smells.
And so last night, the wind was knocked out of my sails by this smell on a blanket that had been in a storage tub since January. It smelled like my work apartment. And I was immediately flooded with this emotional sense of everything good and bad that that apartment has represented. I smelled it again several times today just to go back to that place in my mind. I made my boss smell it. I made her son smell it. They didn't really get it, but humored me. I told my old roommate about it on the phone, and he had experienced the same phenomenon a week or so ago when he finally unpacked some of his things from our apartment. So, I felt validated. That smell means something to him, too. And when I left tonight, the blanket still had not sold, so if I allow one thing to come back, it will be that blanket. Because, I like the way it smells.
***In Foster Care news, the big news is the empty spare bedroom which is now ready to be painted and to be furnished with a crib/todder bed and toys and books and diapers. And when I say empty, I mean, one mirror and one drying rack. E.M.P.T.Y. - like my uterus. I still have not heard from the agency who is supposed to be calling to schedule our home visit. But I have marked all the MAPP classes on my calendar and have planned business trips around them.
In IVF news, today was my last day of BCP for this pack. I start the next pack on NEXT Saturday - which means AF will be here any day. Let the cramping and hormonal rages begin!