Wow. Okay. Did you know that analyse can also be spelled analyze?
I look at both and they both seem wrong! Gah!
Anyway, onto the subject of this post: I am getting a new bed.
I bet you're wondering what the big deal is. I mean it's just a bed, right?
You silly sausages, do you honestly think if it was that simple I'd be talking about it?
Well... maybe I would. But that's not the point! Perhaps I should get to the point you say?
This is no ordinary bed. It's not simply a mattress replacement deal here.
I am getting a brand new bed. A bigger bed.
I'm talking with a head board and foot board here!
*flails around like a crazy person*
Still confused? Wondering why I'm nervous about it...
maybe even freaking out a little, tiny bit?
Truth is... I don't really know. I mean I am excited for it. I am.
I get bouts of giddiness. But then I hesitate. I feel... apprehensive.
The question is why though? Why does something as
small as a bed freak me out, even just a little?
I have a couple of possibilities for you.
1. It's, le gasp! Change.
2. I don't get to have nice things.
Now I think my problem is a combination of both of these things.
There might be more to it, I'm not sure but let's just roll with these at the moment.
We shall start with the first one. The dreaded change.
Don't get me wrong, I've had a lot of change in my life and consider myself decent at
rolling with the punches. However, I think it's precisely because I've had a crap ton
of change in my life that the small changes are what trip me up.
Also, if I think about it, the size of my bed has been a constant in my life.
I've always, always had a twin bed, and I'm getting into the thick of my twenties.
That's a long time to have a certain type of bed. Also I've only really had two frames in my life. The first I had for forever; it was the top bunk of a set of bunk beds.
The only reason we got rid of it was because it died and could no longer be put back together. The second is currently sitting in our garage, still wrapped up in plastic from the move. It wouldn't fit up the stairs, and if we were to take it apart it wouldn't be able to be put back together. Thus, the need for a new bed.
But it bothers me that I can't use my still perfectly good bed. It's not dead yet, so why should I get a new one? This brings me to the second issue.
I don't get to have nice things. This could also be interpreted as new things. I get stuck in this way of thinking that if something works then I should keep it. I shouldn't trade up for something better, I should just wait until it falls apart. This applies to big things and small alike.
I think it's a self-esteem thing? Maybe? Or maybe it could be the fact that these things,
though not as good as they once were, are mine and so I don't want to give them up? Oh!
I think that one is true. Let's add it to the list.
3. I'm somewhat possessive of objects already established as mine.
I think I feel sorry for the objects I'm letting go.
Like I'm saying they're no longer good enough or something, and so I feel bad.
Wow. Giving yourself a guilt trip over an object. *shakes head*
Anyway, back to number two. No, not that number two. Anyway (again), I don't
get this way when other people need things. Only when I do, which further suggests
the self-esteem thing. I worry that if I get something new/better, that that means someone
else won't be able to get something when they need it. So then I feel bad.
Yay guilt trips! *rolls eyes*
The good news? I know that my feelings are a tad irrational. I can reason out
why certain things are necessary, and that me having things is, in fact, a good thing.
I'm a lot better at this then I once was. The other two numbers are something that
I can handle with perhaps a bit of a pep talk, and if that doesn't work then a swift
kick in the rear should do the trick.
Because in the end this is just a bed. I will probably have many other beds in the
future. And that's okay. It's no big deal. It's normal. It's so normal it's mundane and boring. Therefore there's no need to get stressed out over little rediculousnesses (totally not a word) that won't matter in the long run anyway.
And with that said, I need to go organize the library.
Does anyone have any other theories about this subject?
Comments? Rude gestures? Sparkly pinatas?
Let me know in a response.