We move this week. FINALLY.
Slow down Jennie, just slow down.
We’ve been wanting to move for quite some time, and tomorrow is the official day we can enter our new home and call it ours. We’ve had the keys for a few days now, and dropped off a few things, but nothing so big as to be able to claim we’d moved in early. Trying to remain respectful. You know.
In the course of this relationship, Mr. Man and I have made some pretty big purchases together, bigger purchases than I’ve made with any other man in any other relationship and I think these things really speak both to the wonderfully serious nature of our relationship, and the comically tragic (or I suppose lovely) facts about aging.
I knew this relationship was serious when we bought plates together. Not just any Ikea plates, or Target or Bed Bath and Beyond. No, we bought West Elm plates, bowls and coffee mugs, all white and egg shaped, and I knew we had become serious when we talked about plate pricing, about the likelihood that the plates would still be available should one break (that is to say that they aren’t a seasonal type of thing and will still be around), and whether or not we should buy cloth napkins for our more adult parties that we happen to throw. Which, quite honestly, don’t really happen. We still bought red and gun metal grey napkins, and they looked lovely last Thanksgiving, alongside our beautiful West Elm plates.
I knew this relationship was serious when we went to Costco yesterday and talked about buying outdoor furniture. We discussed buying large industrial shelves for our shed, and quickly researched the Bissell Healthy Home vacuum, deciding to go ahead and purchase it along with contact paper for our kitchen drawers and a lavender and juniper berry air freshener for the closet where we will keep the towels. I knew we were serious when I refused to buy a beloved and lusted after Rustic Kitchen Island from West Elm without talking to him about the purchase, even though it was the floor model and priced down to $350 instead of the regular $499, and even though I knew he wanted it too and would say yes. I knew we were serious when I realized that we are buying all these things together, seemingly meaningless things I’ve purchased throughout my adult life, that now have a new meaning and added depth. They are purchases of devotion, of love, of commitment, these plates and bowls, this kitchen table, this vacuum and future industrial shelves.
What’s funny is that I never thought about how serious we were when we signed up for the same phone plan. And though I joke about Mr. Man being required to love me for another year, signing a lease felt much less serious than it should. I suppose as the child of divorce, contractual obligations have always struck me as something one could simply opt out of. That feeling is starting to shift now that we’ve signed new, invisible contracts on egg-shaped plates and a Healthy Home Bissell. Amazing how long it can take to reframe the way we think about something. Thank goodness for the plasticity of our wonderful minds.
And so we begin moving in tomorrow. We’ve had the keys and have been waiting, and since Mr. Man no longer has his truck, I’ll be taking small loads over all week until Saturday, at which point we we grab the uhual, and load it all up. Our life will go into a seventeen footer, plates, bowls, Bissell and all.