After two years of working part-time or less, it took less than a month of working full-time again before Aspirational Me said, “If I had a little bit more time I would definitely cook more interesting meals.” Aspirational me is a total liar, that lazy bitch didn’t even come up with Munchie Monday.
In January I had instated a Civility Bootcamp that had a troubling ending (tl’dr he was delighted when I packed up 90% of the stuff in his room and he never really cared if he got it back). That is kind of coming to a head right now.
I think that it is a good thing to make sure my useful things have a chance to be useful for someone else if I am done with them. To that end I’m a believer in consignment and my hometown has a vibrant (aka rabid) consignment system. Now, it seems (in retrospect) that the spring consignment would have been a good time to make some money on the things Jeff didn’t want. For reasons I don’t even fucking remember anymore I barely sold anything at the spring consignment. It seemed right – and occasionally I am a Dumb Dumb – hard to tell what won here.
So now it is time to prep for fall consignment. I have a new full-time job, and I won a scholarship to learn a TON of neat stuff about lung cancer (cool, given the fact that my 83 year old dad is handling a second occurrence in the last year right now), and ….
I spent the weekend gathering up every place I had “Jeff’s room” tucked away and touching every damn piece of it. Stuffies for goodwill (consignment won’t play that), every piece of “precious paper” in the trash can, every multi-hundred set of everything sorted the (OMG) out. I didn’t clean it, or tag it, but at least I got it sorted. I haven’t washed the clothing or found enough wire hangers, but it is sorted.
Aspirational Me doesn’t think this is all headed to the goodwill. Aspirational me thinks that I’ll work 12 days in a row, and then on the first day I’m home with my family I’ll be tagging 80 pieces of clothing and then heading to the 7 bins of toys.
Aspirational me is kind of a dumb ass.