It is not enough. For an old babe with an aged bladder to match, those six and their five companions really are not enough to make me feel abundance in the undies department. I was not able to make it to the laundromat last week and had to hand wash some delicate stuff. I have five pairs of pants, three sleeveless shells in the same non-wrinkle fabric, and a dozen or so outer shirts that go over the basic uniform, as well as a bunch of cheap scarves.
Cheap scarves...inexpensive and divine in so many strange and delightful ways...are one of my greatest pleasures. This past year found me losing some of them, including a very nice black shawl/wrap kind of thing, mostly to the insane winds we have been regularly having here.
I think of them drifting off, fleeing to other realms where they may find a home with someone else. Same thing with jewelry, also of the
It is interesting. It is the only place in my life where I am not bothered and troubled with abundance issues. As a child there was never enough of anything to meet the needs of all of us. I went straight from my childhood home into my marriage home. There was a lack of things there, as well, and it took me all those decades to understand that my ex had stuff that I could only envy and that it was not because I was unworthy of having stuff.
Through the years I bought things when I could, with what I had, but the need for more than I needed crept in on cat's paws, without any awareness of it happening. Even when I noticed, realized that it was not necessary to have lots of art supplies, that the notion of having one set of pastels was nice, but it was so much better to be prepared for the pastel famine by watching for sales and finally accumulating five sets.
When that bolt of awareness struck, I would divest myself of the extras, but it was a terrible experience. I felt such loss and longing for what was now with someone else, most likely someone who would actually use the damn things. I felt empty and vulnerable and in danger of something bad happening without the emotional protection that having stuff gave me.
I still struggle with this, and it is an issue that is becoming a part of my life because I have to start accumulating art and craft supplies in order to launch the art program that I have been asked to create at one of the agencies.
Yesterday I went to my favorite charity shop, the one that hauled away so much of my ex's crap when I had to clear out the house two years ago.
It was painful. I had to guard against buying cool crap that might just come in handy for a crafting project someday. You know, that mythical someday that stays just out of reach and taunts you when you try to toss out things.
I managed, and bought only the few things they had that are going to enhance and provide supplies for the book making/binding class that is to be our first time together.
But, man, was it difficult to resist all of the goodies and decent treasures they have in the shop.
Tomorrow is a day that I planned to go through the things that seem too precious to let go. I took off from two of my jobs this week to have the extra time to clear out some of this stuff.
Big girl pantie time, and it is really lucky that I made it to do laundry on Monday evening.
This is not even close to what I wanted to write here tonight. What the heck.