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Dec. 12th, 2005 02:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thejunipertreeSaturday burned bright with me ditching work for the day and deciding that now was the time to do more moving things around the apartment/throwing stuff out.
This was one of the bigger jobs I've been needing to do, with a hell of a lot of junk having to be hauled all over the apartment, cleaned off, sorted through, and placed in its new home (whether that be somewhere else in the apartment or in the trash). Two of the things that needed to be emptied were the china cabinet that has been in my family for as long as I can remember and the natural wood hutch/cabinet thing. Both of these sat in the living room, where I did not want them to be. They're big and take up far too much room.
I started out with cleaning out the china cabinet, which had a massive amount of crap inside it. Everything in the upper portion of it went into the kitchen to sit on the stove for the time being and everything else was spread across my floor for me to sift through. I removed the sliding glass doors and hid them out of the way because I know I'm dim enough to trip over the damn things and lose several pints of blood in the process.
I found shot glasses I didn't even know we owned, hideously ugly napkin rings (two sets of them!), glass vases, all that's left of our crystal stemware (which is delicate and gorgeous), a fabric turkey, papers, a stapler. The list could go on and on for days. I threw the majority of it out, the crystal was taken into the kitchen to be washed because I will cut a bitch if they try to convince me to get rid of it.
Cleared a path through the debris still on the floor, removed some photographs and the large painted portrait of my middle brother from the wall in the hall (where I wanted to put the cabinet). And I moved that big bitch of a cabinet on my own into the hallway. It took several rest stops and a lot of profanity, but I did it. Go me.
However, once it achieved its final destination, I was unhappy with the placement. Our hallway is narrow and while there was more than enough room to get past the cabinet, I knew it would eventually end up having to be moved. Another plan was needed and this involved the Engineer being called to come down and give some opinions.
He is a rather patient man, as evidenced by him staying with me for five years. I frequently enlist his help in household affairs, usually revolving around me saying, "Can you help me hang up some things?" and him being directed through hanging large assortments of prints that have to be in perfectly symmetrical arrangements, with me not wanting to listen to any advice on alternate arrangement.
Needless to say, this time proved no different (though the only thing he wound up having to hang was my spice rack). We decided that the cabinet did in fact not work in the hallway and should go where the hutch currently was. And that the hutch should go in the kitchen where the butcher block was (my original plan anyway) and that the butcher block would be moved to the very small pantry cabinet and the pantry cabinet would be moved to the curb outside.
To do this, I first needed to empty the hutch and move several things inside of it to a location on top of my kitchen cabinets. However, they were quite dirty and covered in kitchen grease, so I had to climb on top of the counter and clean them. Being short, with short person arms, I couldn't reach as far as I wanted, so I had the brilliant idea to get the mop. Nothing quite like mopping the ceiling, I tell you, but it did the job. For the most part. After I knocked down the kitchen curtains.
That finally accomplished, I started cleaning out the hutch. This involved a lot more work than you would think. Inside the hutch was various and sundry kitchen tools. My mother was a big fan of kitchen gadgets and thusly collected a shittonne more than you could possibly imagine. I trashed most of them. At one point, I was standing on my foot stool holding a terra cotta garlic roaster in my hand and I asked the Engineer (who was holding my third trash bag of the day), "Do I need a garlic roaster?" and his wise reply was, "In the past six months, has it made your life any easier?"
Into the trash bag it went. Followed by springform cake pans, a gun that shoots cookies, a dough-twirling thingie and several objects that I could not readily identify.
I also threw out both of my fish tanks. See, I have always had a betta. They're my favourite fish of all time. Little, jewel-coloured, attitude-throwing fishies that have to live solitary lives. I'm fairly good at keeping them and have always made it a point to have one. My last betta, Mephisto, died a few months ago after an extraordinarily long life and I just never got up the gumption to get another one. However, as I stood in the kitchen holding his little tank, I realized that I don't have it in me right now to deal with another pet. More cleaning. More feeding. More paying attention to. I just don't have the energy. In some ways, I think my recent rash of pet deaths has been a good thing, despite how my heart hurts from the loss. Less animals in the household, less work. I eventually want it down to two cats (three at the absolute most) and two boy rats. That's it.
This apartment, and any future potential living space, is far too small for such an array of creatures. I refuse to get rid of any of the current menagerie because they are my responsibility and people that shirk that responsibility are on the top of my stab-you-in-the-fucking-mouth list. No animal of mine will ever be left at the shelter, given to someone else to take care of, or euthanized because of their behaviour (unless that behaviour is dangerous to my or someone else's life, the flipping out and trying to eat one's face kind of behaviour, not the peeing on the kitchen floor or throwing up every day on the carpet kind of behaviour). Euthanized because they are getting old or sick is one thing. Euthanizing for any other reason is unacceptable.
I digress.
I had a hand at making this mess and I'm going to see it out. And putting a cap on the total number of creatures roaming these halls is one way of approaching it. If I had it my way, I'd live on a farm and rescue all the animals I could, but if I also had my way, I'd have a bathtub the size of my bedroom.
I'm digressing again, I apologize.
The fish tanks went into the trash. And the Engineer and I moved the hutch into the kitchen (after moving the butcher block into the living room for the time being). However, this presented the same problem as the china cabinet in the hallway. It fit in the space, but it just took up too much space overall. So what do we fucking do with it? I don't want it back in the living room, that would completely negate most of the work I did that day and I don't want to throw it out because it would mean losing a lot of much needed storage space. The Engineer came up with the plan to move it next to the fridge, despite that being very close to the dining table and chairs. It would have to do. And it actually did, to my delight. The butcher block got wheeled back to its original location.
I filled it back up with the canned goods taken out of the pantry cabinet, we hauled the pantry cabinet out to the curb where I gave it the middle finger (I've always hated that goddamn thing) and I began the process of cleaning everything up.
All the space in my apartment seems to be so much more open now, it's incredible. And although I keep heading into the living room to get the cat food (where it used to be), I'm liking the placement of the hutch in the kitchen more and more. One day, I'll even get around to painting it, like I've been planning. Once that's done, I'll be well on my way to having this place be in the condition I'd like to be in. I get that done and really the only things left are to hang the curtains/curtain rods I bought months ago and finally get a slip cover for the oddly shaped flower-print chair that is currently the bane of my existence.
The majority of my mother's belongings that I don't want to keep have all been taken out of the apartment, at this point. One day, I'll get around to rescuing my dinnerware out of my father's basement and scrapping the dishes we currently have (and I loathe). The hall closet is still to be cleaned out, but there really isn't all that much in there. A couple of old coats and some strange odds and ends, nothing much at all.
It feels weird, throwing all of this out. But, not bad-weird. In the year that's passed since she died, so much of me has changed that I scarcely recognize myself when I look in my mental mirror. Sometimes doing all of this hurts so much that I have to sit down and take a breather, but I'd like to think that she'd be proud of me for taking these steps, rather then just wallowing in misery.
Middle brother and I haven't spoken of the nastiness of last week involving eldest brother, which I am thankful for because I don't wish to relive it, but his behaviour around me has changed in small and subtle ways. I made dinner the other night for myself and offered some of it to him, which he accepted, and he did the dishes. Without me asking. I almost fell over. We're both depressed because of the time of year, but we haven't been skulking around each other like we normally do.
I still want to get a job that could let me afford this place on my own. He wants to move out when the lease is up and I don't. I like it here. And I'd like to live completely on my own, I've never done it before. I also think we'd get along far better if we didn't live together. That's always been the case, though. We never got along so well as we did when I was living in the city. It was great. I know he doesn't like living here or living with the animals. And I'm sure he doesn't like living in a place decorated with strange prints of boo spookiness, anonymous bones for knick knacks, Halloween in the kitchen, and ouija boards in the bathroom.
It would be better for both of us. I appreciate what he does, staying here because he knows I'd be screwed otherwise, but both of us would be better off otherwise. Thusly, a large part of my energy is going to be devoted towards finding a new job that pays better. Tomorrow, I'm going to figure out how much money I need a month to properly do this and go on from there.
At any rate, I've exhausted myself typing all this out and I'm in dire need of my bed.
This was one of the bigger jobs I've been needing to do, with a hell of a lot of junk having to be hauled all over the apartment, cleaned off, sorted through, and placed in its new home (whether that be somewhere else in the apartment or in the trash). Two of the things that needed to be emptied were the china cabinet that has been in my family for as long as I can remember and the natural wood hutch/cabinet thing. Both of these sat in the living room, where I did not want them to be. They're big and take up far too much room.
I started out with cleaning out the china cabinet, which had a massive amount of crap inside it. Everything in the upper portion of it went into the kitchen to sit on the stove for the time being and everything else was spread across my floor for me to sift through. I removed the sliding glass doors and hid them out of the way because I know I'm dim enough to trip over the damn things and lose several pints of blood in the process.
I found shot glasses I didn't even know we owned, hideously ugly napkin rings (two sets of them!), glass vases, all that's left of our crystal stemware (which is delicate and gorgeous), a fabric turkey, papers, a stapler. The list could go on and on for days. I threw the majority of it out, the crystal was taken into the kitchen to be washed because I will cut a bitch if they try to convince me to get rid of it.
Cleared a path through the debris still on the floor, removed some photographs and the large painted portrait of my middle brother from the wall in the hall (where I wanted to put the cabinet). And I moved that big bitch of a cabinet on my own into the hallway. It took several rest stops and a lot of profanity, but I did it. Go me.
However, once it achieved its final destination, I was unhappy with the placement. Our hallway is narrow and while there was more than enough room to get past the cabinet, I knew it would eventually end up having to be moved. Another plan was needed and this involved the Engineer being called to come down and give some opinions.
He is a rather patient man, as evidenced by him staying with me for five years. I frequently enlist his help in household affairs, usually revolving around me saying, "Can you help me hang up some things?" and him being directed through hanging large assortments of prints that have to be in perfectly symmetrical arrangements, with me not wanting to listen to any advice on alternate arrangement.
Needless to say, this time proved no different (though the only thing he wound up having to hang was my spice rack). We decided that the cabinet did in fact not work in the hallway and should go where the hutch currently was. And that the hutch should go in the kitchen where the butcher block was (my original plan anyway) and that the butcher block would be moved to the very small pantry cabinet and the pantry cabinet would be moved to the curb outside.
To do this, I first needed to empty the hutch and move several things inside of it to a location on top of my kitchen cabinets. However, they were quite dirty and covered in kitchen grease, so I had to climb on top of the counter and clean them. Being short, with short person arms, I couldn't reach as far as I wanted, so I had the brilliant idea to get the mop. Nothing quite like mopping the ceiling, I tell you, but it did the job. For the most part. After I knocked down the kitchen curtains.
That finally accomplished, I started cleaning out the hutch. This involved a lot more work than you would think. Inside the hutch was various and sundry kitchen tools. My mother was a big fan of kitchen gadgets and thusly collected a shittonne more than you could possibly imagine. I trashed most of them. At one point, I was standing on my foot stool holding a terra cotta garlic roaster in my hand and I asked the Engineer (who was holding my third trash bag of the day), "Do I need a garlic roaster?" and his wise reply was, "In the past six months, has it made your life any easier?"
Into the trash bag it went. Followed by springform cake pans, a gun that shoots cookies, a dough-twirling thingie and several objects that I could not readily identify.
I also threw out both of my fish tanks. See, I have always had a betta. They're my favourite fish of all time. Little, jewel-coloured, attitude-throwing fishies that have to live solitary lives. I'm fairly good at keeping them and have always made it a point to have one. My last betta, Mephisto, died a few months ago after an extraordinarily long life and I just never got up the gumption to get another one. However, as I stood in the kitchen holding his little tank, I realized that I don't have it in me right now to deal with another pet. More cleaning. More feeding. More paying attention to. I just don't have the energy. In some ways, I think my recent rash of pet deaths has been a good thing, despite how my heart hurts from the loss. Less animals in the household, less work. I eventually want it down to two cats (three at the absolute most) and two boy rats. That's it.
This apartment, and any future potential living space, is far too small for such an array of creatures. I refuse to get rid of any of the current menagerie because they are my responsibility and people that shirk that responsibility are on the top of my stab-you-in-the-fucking-mouth list. No animal of mine will ever be left at the shelter, given to someone else to take care of, or euthanized because of their behaviour (unless that behaviour is dangerous to my or someone else's life, the flipping out and trying to eat one's face kind of behaviour, not the peeing on the kitchen floor or throwing up every day on the carpet kind of behaviour). Euthanized because they are getting old or sick is one thing. Euthanizing for any other reason is unacceptable.
I digress.
I had a hand at making this mess and I'm going to see it out. And putting a cap on the total number of creatures roaming these halls is one way of approaching it. If I had it my way, I'd live on a farm and rescue all the animals I could, but if I also had my way, I'd have a bathtub the size of my bedroom.
I'm digressing again, I apologize.
The fish tanks went into the trash. And the Engineer and I moved the hutch into the kitchen (after moving the butcher block into the living room for the time being). However, this presented the same problem as the china cabinet in the hallway. It fit in the space, but it just took up too much space overall. So what do we fucking do with it? I don't want it back in the living room, that would completely negate most of the work I did that day and I don't want to throw it out because it would mean losing a lot of much needed storage space. The Engineer came up with the plan to move it next to the fridge, despite that being very close to the dining table and chairs. It would have to do. And it actually did, to my delight. The butcher block got wheeled back to its original location.
I filled it back up with the canned goods taken out of the pantry cabinet, we hauled the pantry cabinet out to the curb where I gave it the middle finger (I've always hated that goddamn thing) and I began the process of cleaning everything up.
All the space in my apartment seems to be so much more open now, it's incredible. And although I keep heading into the living room to get the cat food (where it used to be), I'm liking the placement of the hutch in the kitchen more and more. One day, I'll even get around to painting it, like I've been planning. Once that's done, I'll be well on my way to having this place be in the condition I'd like to be in. I get that done and really the only things left are to hang the curtains/curtain rods I bought months ago and finally get a slip cover for the oddly shaped flower-print chair that is currently the bane of my existence.
The majority of my mother's belongings that I don't want to keep have all been taken out of the apartment, at this point. One day, I'll get around to rescuing my dinnerware out of my father's basement and scrapping the dishes we currently have (and I loathe). The hall closet is still to be cleaned out, but there really isn't all that much in there. A couple of old coats and some strange odds and ends, nothing much at all.
It feels weird, throwing all of this out. But, not bad-weird. In the year that's passed since she died, so much of me has changed that I scarcely recognize myself when I look in my mental mirror. Sometimes doing all of this hurts so much that I have to sit down and take a breather, but I'd like to think that she'd be proud of me for taking these steps, rather then just wallowing in misery.
Middle brother and I haven't spoken of the nastiness of last week involving eldest brother, which I am thankful for because I don't wish to relive it, but his behaviour around me has changed in small and subtle ways. I made dinner the other night for myself and offered some of it to him, which he accepted, and he did the dishes. Without me asking. I almost fell over. We're both depressed because of the time of year, but we haven't been skulking around each other like we normally do.
I still want to get a job that could let me afford this place on my own. He wants to move out when the lease is up and I don't. I like it here. And I'd like to live completely on my own, I've never done it before. I also think we'd get along far better if we didn't live together. That's always been the case, though. We never got along so well as we did when I was living in the city. It was great. I know he doesn't like living here or living with the animals. And I'm sure he doesn't like living in a place decorated with strange prints of boo spookiness, anonymous bones for knick knacks, Halloween in the kitchen, and ouija boards in the bathroom.
It would be better for both of us. I appreciate what he does, staying here because he knows I'd be screwed otherwise, but both of us would be better off otherwise. Thusly, a large part of my energy is going to be devoted towards finding a new job that pays better. Tomorrow, I'm going to figure out how much money I need a month to properly do this and go on from there.
At any rate, I've exhausted myself typing all this out and I'm in dire need of my bed.
