Pretending I am Moving

I am still in the process of veganizing my surroundings. There are still shoes, purses, and a relic of a tub of honey body cream here, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it one bit. That said, there is also the relic of the ancient refrigerator in the living room. I’ve encountered a compassionate soul from St. Vincent de Paul Association and they have agreed to take the refrigerator even though normally they don’t accept nonworking appliances.

So I’ve sweetened the deal by going through the closets, drawers, and garage and I’ve gathered up boatloads of gently worn suits, some clothing with tags still on them (!!!) and many many many pairs of Stuart Weitzman, Coach, and Birkenstocks. They are also getting the many many many Coach purses and totes. MY theory is that to sell that stuff would cause me to be guilty of enriching myself at the expense of animals again, something that surely would not go into my karma account as a positive. And I am uber reluctant to mess with karma.

As a result of all the looking around, trying on clothing, sorting through stuff, I’ve also figured out that I can save even more electricity by moving my bedroom down to the guest room and closing off the whole top floor of the house. Why should I cool rooms that are not being used? So I’ve been clearing out the guest room to prepare for painting while I’m waiting for the charity truck, and thinking about how I’ve got, for example, a whole desk full of cosmetics I’ve not used in years. I’ve been thinking (still) about moving to Savannah, and how every time I pick something up that I don’t really need, use often, or love totally, that it should not be here to facilitate moving. With that thought, I’ve decided to paint the room, paint my great grandmother’s desk, and put my bed, the desk and the chiffarobe in that room and I’ll be set. As a bonus, I’ll be ten steps closer to Savannah.