Weevil of Zenith
Jul. 13th, 2023 08:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ismoI have spent most of the day Throwing. Stuff. Out. Ruthlessly! I can't believe how many stacks of books have been marked superfluous, and yet I still don't seem to have any empty shelves. It's mysterious and paradoxical. But, at any rate, there's an empty space where the small bookshelf used to be. I'm still dubious as to whether the chair will really fit nicely there. I worry that it will be intrusive. But I guess we can't tell until it arrives. Various boxes of books have to sit in the garage until later. The Sparrowhawk had to take the car in to find out why the headlights don't turn on, so it was unavailable today. They replaced all the lights, and apparently they work again now. Very peculiar, but alrighty then. At some point after our guests are all gone, we'll haul the books worth saving off to be donated.
Purging books is emotionally stressful, for someone like me. Books are like Horcruxes, though in a more benign way. Each of them holds some part of my identity, some aspiration, dream, or experience. I'm putting aside some part of what I was when I put the book aside. Sometimes that's a good thing, as I shove the offending volume away and avert my eyes, muttering "What was I thinking," "What a disappointment that was," or "Hm--wonder why I thought I'd ever read that." Other times I wince with pain as I recall what I thought I would do and be at the time I brought that book home. Whoops. Oh well--OUT THE AIRLOCK WITH YOU! BYEEEEE . . . . Don't worry though--I have PLENTY more. I just wish that at some point in my life, I would be living in peace, so I'd have time to read them all. Maintenance is a struggle. I keep hoping I'll reach an equilibrium.
Honestly, I think it takes about ten years to resettle after a major move. I moved twice in a row, and then was inundated with successive avalanches of other people's stuff cascading into my purview and demanding to be dealt with--my parents' things in several iterations. I guess it's not too surprising that I'm still in the process. It's irritating, though, because at this point in my life, I don't have an infinite amount of time to get it done.
Purging books is emotionally stressful, for someone like me. Books are like Horcruxes, though in a more benign way. Each of them holds some part of my identity, some aspiration, dream, or experience. I'm putting aside some part of what I was when I put the book aside. Sometimes that's a good thing, as I shove the offending volume away and avert my eyes, muttering "What was I thinking," "What a disappointment that was," or "Hm--wonder why I thought I'd ever read that." Other times I wince with pain as I recall what I thought I would do and be at the time I brought that book home. Whoops. Oh well--OUT THE AIRLOCK WITH YOU! BYEEEEE . . . . Don't worry though--I have PLENTY more. I just wish that at some point in my life, I would be living in peace, so I'd have time to read them all. Maintenance is a struggle. I keep hoping I'll reach an equilibrium.
Honestly, I think it takes about ten years to resettle after a major move. I moved twice in a row, and then was inundated with successive avalanches of other people's stuff cascading into my purview and demanding to be dealt with--my parents' things in several iterations. I guess it's not too surprising that I'm still in the process. It's irritating, though, because at this point in my life, I don't have an infinite amount of time to get it done.
