You guys I'm still so tired. Moving really takes it out of me, it turns out, and having stayed in one place for such a long time makes it harder. It's not like money where you save it up; it's like a muscle I haven't flexed. I measured and measured and measured and moved a bunch of stuff from the old place to the new one only to semi-sheepishly return it a couple weeks later when it turns out that centimeters aren't the only thing that makes stuff fit. On the plus side, the young man I hired to help move the furniture over turned out to be quite nice and I hired him for other projects as well. In Czech, they call a handyman an "hourly husband" and I hired an hourly husband who came out to install some lights and didn't bring the right tools and broke one of the things he was supposed to install and and bitched about my taste and also stunk up the place, so he was kind of like a traditional husband except at the end I had to give him money instead of whatever a traditional wife does with someone like that. I was pretty bummed about the whole situation but then I called the mover to ask if he also assembled furniture and he did so I dubbed him my "hourly son" and I have adopted him as my own, in an hourly way. He does not stink.
The things we do and do not pay people to do and the things we do and do not get robots to do and which things we take pride in and would never delegate and which things we delegate as soon as our income bracket can afford it are very interesting to me.
Despite a pretty significant paring down of things I still have too many things. My sister, who is a much nicer sister than I deserve, came to visit and helped me put up my art in ways that make me feel surrounded by beauty and she tried to help me weed out the books but books make me feel safe the same way a stack of sweaters or a drawer of neatly rolled scarves does, so I need to look at other areas. Some years ago I saw a photo of Georgia O'Keeffe's home with just a few dresses (hung on nails on the wall, I think?) and I thought how much I would like to be like that. Not minimalist in all things, I think that ship has sailed, but at least in clothes. A few really structurally interesting pieces that I wear all the time. The problem is that I think I'd have to be structurally interesting in the same way O'Keeffe was, and as I realized when I recently saw a photo of myself, what I usually look like is a pile of laundry. Clean laundry, but still. But I don't think clothes is what I'm going to pare down either.
A lot of things delight me lately -- I like my new home. I've dealt with some quite lovely people in the last couple of months. Work has been improving after what felt like a multi-month slump that had me really doubting myself. I auditioned for a play that I was not in charge of and got cast and enjoyed knowing that I can still learn lines (not a lot of lines, but if I can still memorize at all it means a great deal to me), and that I can still slip into a character in a way that pleases me, to stop being Anne for a minute and take on the heart of someone different enough that it's interesting but familiar enough that I can still say what I need to say. I've read things for pleasure and been pleased. I've watched some pretty good plays (Vanya was amazing; People Places and Things more disturbing but such a creative set). I've been irritated by people too, and annoyed by work, and frustrated with projects not going the way I want, and with my own limitations, and with the amount of crap that has to be waded through before you can swim at all. And I don't even want to talk about the amount of time I've wasted thinking about politics without feeling like I'm learning or growing in any kind of meaningful way. But in general, mostly good. And I'm optimistic that now that I (finally) have internet again and mostly know where things are even in the dark, I'll be back to a rhythm in which I sleep and live and get things done in no time.