Usually after a major breakup I start wanting to pursue one or more new people pretty quickly. I may tell myself that I just need to have some fun (since my newly ended relationship wasn’t fun for a long while), and I’m sure that’s a factor, but I must confess that part of my motivation is also a need for validation. I feel rejected and unloveable and I’m trying to negate that through the attentions of boys.
And then, at some point, things do an abrupt about-face and I’m all fuck you, dating, I am done with you.
I felt that reversal happen today, palpably. I think it has something to do with the apartment-rearranging I’ve been doing; either I’ve just gotten over Minx another notch and it’s put me in the mood to revamp my living space and be single, or else the cleaning is making me love my apartment again and this in turn is making me embrace the idea of hanging out here alone.
Seriously – I had not realized how much I’ve come to hate this place. The apartment itself is nice, if small. With me and my possessions in it, however, it’s a deathtrap.
The main problem with the living room is that it was dominated by a huge grid-shaped shelving unit that Minx and I bought together (it seemed like a good idea at the time…). This shelving unit doesn’t have a big tv-hole in the middle of it; it’s just a grid. So the only place for my tv (which is an older, cube-shaped one) was on a table in front of the shelving unit. And my living room is not terribly big, and my “couch” is unusually deep (it’s actually a single bed), so a person could literally sit on my couch and reach out and touch the tv screen. Easily. That’s how crowded-together the furniture was.
Today I cleared the remaining bric-a-brac off the grid-shelf* and dragged it into the kitchen for the time being. I also hung a shelf on the wall where the grid shelf had been so I could put my DVD collection on it. The room looks a hundred times bigger and more open now, and I haven’t even set up my new, thinner tv yet! …I’ve decided, actually, that I won’t set up the new tv until I’ve bought a new piece of furniture to put it on – something about half as deep as the current tv table. There’s a small cheap chest of drawers from Ikea that looks exactly the right size and will give me more storage space; I’m going to make a pilgrimage to get it on Monday, hopefully. It’s gonna look fucking awesome.
I’m not sure I can stand to give up my old tv, though. The Pedant assures me that nobody would be willing to pay money for a CRT tv – not even some kind of scrap dealer – and yet I paid around $500 for it just five years ago and it works perfectly. It kind of breaks my heart to think of leaving it on the sidewalk for scavengers. I’m pretty sure I can fit the tv in my bedroom…and if I buy a second DVD player, I can totally fall asleep watching my favourite cartoons in bed. Or, maybe having the tv in the bedroom will make it feel hideous and cramped in there and this will make me thrilled to let it go. Win-win.
I put out word on Facebook that I’d give away the grid shelf to whoever claimed it first, btw, and The Doll wants it. He’s coming over next Thursday and we’ll dismantle it and take the pieces to his place together. I hope the process isn’t too big a pain in the ass, but even if it is, the shelf will be out of my life. WORTH IT!
Meanwhile, I’ve decided to get rid of as many of my possessions as possible in order to declutter the apartment. I’ve said that before (and I did get rid of some stuff on several occasions) but this time I mean it. I will be brutal in my pursuit of asceticism.
I have a bunch of books that I’ll read when I’m bored but they don’t really move me; I’m gonna sell them. If it turns out I miss any of them, that’s what libraries are for. I have a handful of DVDs I don’t really watch; those, too, shall be sold. Most of them are available on Netflix anyway.
What I’ve been struggling with most is the issue of clothing. I have a whole bunch of solid-coloured long- and short-sleeved t-shirts I bought way-back-when as office wear. They’re serviceable, but boring; I wear them when the clothes I like are all in the hamper. I also have five or six pairs of office-appropriate pants that are currently mouldering in a storage bin under my bed. I’ve been loath to get rid of these things because what if the modelling doesn’t pan out and I have to resort to office work again? But the thing is…it might be a year or more before that happens (maybe never, if I’m lucky) and in the meantime these garments are taking up precious real estate. And if I do get an office job one day, I can buy new clothes for it then! Even if I’m dirt poor by that point, I’ll probably have credit or a friend who’ll lend me money or something. I do not need to hold on to an entire drawer’s worth of clothing just in case.
(Okay, the paranoid hoarder in me is insisting that I keep at least one pair of work pants and one or two work shirts. But that’s where I draw the line!!!)
I think that getting rid of my old work clothes will be terrifying, but also freeing. It’s a gesture of faith; it’s me deciding that yes, this is my life now, the modelling and art are not temporary. And perhaps in letting go of the last vestiges of the old, office-working me, I’ll get more modelling work – either because I’ve aligned my cosmic energies in the right direction or because getting rid of my psychological safety net will make me pursue modelling work harder. Probably both.
It’s scary as fuck, though. I’m not gonna lie.
Oh, right, back to the “I don’t care about dating anymore” thing…I’m not gonna discontinue seeing The Pedant; that would be throwing the baby out with the bathwater. But I don’t feel as hooked on him as I did before, and that’s a goddamned relief.
I’ll also continue sporadically texting with The Hedonist – if I think of things I wanna say to him – but I’m not gonna worry much about why he hasn’t made plans to see me again or where this whole thing is going. Fuck it. Just fuck. It.
I’ve got shit to do.
*I was ranting to The Pedant about how I hate that shelving unit but the thought of emptying it out (preparatory to getting rid of it) felt overwhelming. He said “I don’t think it’s that bad. I look at it and I mostly see empty space.” He was right – that shelving unit was bought specifically for MInx’s stuff, and when he left I shoved random things in it to get them out of my way, but it wasn’t nearly full. Also, I realized that I didn’t have to find places to put all that shit; I could stash it somewhere and deal with it later. Which is what I’ve decided to do.