I am in love with my washing machine.

If I am being honest with myself, I really care for my Dryer too. I am moving. The general agreement of friends and family is that this is a good decision, my environment needs to change. My ma said it was more important than finding a second job, (which I still haven’t done, I may miss my summertime window, but I feel like the work I’m doing on myself may be more important than my bank account balance). The feel of my suite was better than the grey echo of the 3 bedroom 2 bath apartment I shared with my ex, but now, after 2 years, I have outgrown it. It has run past it’s best before date, going sour. The neighbourhood has changed too… I feel isolated when I am at home, which makes me anxious. I strongly believe everyone should live alone at one point in their lives (and be alone, single, autonomous), but I have had my fill for now. Of the living alone part at least.
Because I downsized, and then went thru and cleansed earlier this year, I have less “things” than I used to. As always you realize how much stuff you have when you are packing. I have remnants of my past life as suzy homemaker, loaf pans, casserole dishes, baking sheets. Now a days the only way I would use a casserole dish was if I was having mini wheats for dinner and there weren’t any clean bowls left. I am not above eating out of a casserole dish, and the mini wheats are dinner… so…
My ex and I were together in our independence (alone in our togetherness?), we didn’t share a bank account, a car, children, pets, friends, closets or things. We both contributed, but there was a definite his and hers division.
The first thing we ever purchased together was a sectional sofa. We decided we wanted to sit together instead of on our separate chairs. We shopped together, picking out a style, color, fabric. We have similar tastes so it wasn’t too hard to agree. We sat on a bunch, went to store after store, looked online, found the one we bought on sale and ran our separate credit cards for half each. The salesman said “look, it comes un clipped and is finished on both pieces” I replied with a “that’s great so when we break up we can split the couch” I was joking…
I shouldn’t joke I guess, because when it came time for us to divide our things that is exactly what happened, I tried to convince him to take the whole thing, I was, after all getting the washer and dryer we had later purchased together, he should take the sectional. He argued it wouldn’t fit in his new apartment, but I think he didn’t want to leave me with nothing but a camping chair and a bean bag in our huge living room that I would now be occupying alone. It was a little murky if our split at that point was a forever or for now. I joke about my half-a-couch, brag even about the civil way we split our things. The truth is it’s just a sofa, 7 feet of foam and fabric. Goldy mentioned once, you call it a half-a-couch, but it’s a decent size? A place to sleep, cuddle, watch 30 rock, cry, eat. Not always in that order. Would it fit into my new space? Sure it would, but is it healthy for me to hold onto it? Can I afford to replace it with something else? I had casually mentioned maybe I should sell it. And who the heck would buy half a sectional? It’s not worth it to sell, only to turn around and buy something new. Honestly I am attached to that chunk of furniture, for what it stood for, I am sentimental about my half-a-couch. I slept on it until I could buy a new bed, I watched 5 seasons of 30 rock on my laptop while laying on it. (in 6 weeks instead of sleeping…) I cozied up on it with my laptop when I created my blog, It has caught my tears, kept me warm, and made me feel safe. It also held a reminder that it’s other half was with my ex other half and we were still connected in some way, good or bad.
My parents are furnishing their bachelor suite, and my Mom asked if they should buy it from me. I panicked. I am not ready to let go of it… I was just talking big when I talked about selling it… if I don’t have my half-a-couch, I have nothing left…I stalled, said something non committal, and the conversation moved along. I drove home that night and thought about her suggestion. It would fit really well in the space, good color… I cried. I am driving in my car, blotting tears while thinking of a sofa. Half of a used sofa. Really Holley? While chatting with Cherise I mentioned I didn’t need my washer and dryer in my new house, and what should I do with them? She suggested I sell them, and I felt the same pang, I am sentimentally attached to a half a couch and a couple appliances? Talk about big baggage…
I walked thru a couple furniture stores looking at sofas, and appliances, I looked thru classified ads and discovered my washer and dryer are worth more than I thought. Part of me was sad, if they were worthless I’d store them, keep them forever… or give them to someone where I could have visitation. So unbelievably weird… hahaha.
I realized It would be healthy to let my half a couch go to a new home, I phoned my parents and my brother came down and picked up up. I can still visit it if I REALLY need to. The camping chair and bean bag fits nicely in my little living room. If I sell my washer and dryer I can buy a new couch. Or maybe a new computer!
It is petty, and silly, but I am grieving at the loss of my half-a-couch, and the washer and dryer are going up for sale this week. It feels like a loss, and they are just things, my washer won’t keep me warm at night, and it won’t do anyone any good to be sitting in a shed under a tarp. Not once has it told me I am pretty or fun, but it does play a little laundry song tune when it’s done cleaning my delicates.
I feel like my own worth isn’t enough to bring to a relationship. I need to have a dowry of antiquated women’s tools. I won’t be a good wife if I don’t have a kitchen full of roasting pans and cookie sheets, fancy laundry machines to wash my husbands clothes and a good vacuum to clean the house. I bet in the history of dating, never has anyone thought to themselves “I really like this girl, and we would be serious, move in together and start a life together if only she had a good washer and dryer…”

Tagged , ,

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: