I was giving myself a bit of a talking to last night as I walked home from work. Why was I so excited about having my stuff arrive? Am I that attached or defined by possessions?
But as I walked home into the sunset….no kidding—how awesome is that? And I can see the sun rising out my back windows in the morning….and I saw the moon through the trees last night too (I’m easily amused, I guess.)
Anyway, the point is that I think having my stuff arrive is exciting not because I really need my ratty old sofa to feel at home, but because in some way it signals me to put down my roots here.
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