For at least a year of my life, Josh and I lived happily in a small basement apartment in Chapel Hill. Josh had a particular affection for cats and described certain of my behaviors as "kitty-like."
As he pointed out, I tend to wander off in mid-conversation without announcing my departure. I tend to very quickly jump up and run out of rooms for no apparent reason. I am hyper-sensitive to environmental cues, can be skittish at some times, and sociable in other instances, mostly when I want something like food.
Most notably, Josh said, "You're just like a cat. You don't like when your furniture changes." I denied being this way, of course, until my furniture actually did change.
While I lived in the basement apartment, I slept on a vintage orange couch adjacent to the window. I was comfortable there and refused to sleep elsewhere. I could wake up with the sunlight, staring at the plants on the window-sill and the woods outside the window.
One day our landlord had the audacity to replace the couch with a newer sleeper sofa. I am not a furniture snob, but I had gotten so comfortable with my couch that I actually cried a few tears over the loss. Josh tried to console me by convincing me that the new couch was way better than the old one and that I would grow to love this one as much as the old one. It had fold-out capabilities afterall! Well, remarkably, Josh was right. I grew to love the new couch.
Since our time in the cozy little Chapel Hill apartment, my furniture has not undergone too many changes, but it seems like nearly everything else in my life has.
If there's one thing I'm trying to work on, it's my tendency to try and cling to what's ephemeral.
Change, for me is scary. Of course, I remember my 9th grade English teacher telling me (prior to my big move from Charlotte to New Orleans) that "Most things worth doing are scary."
I got offered a job in Asheville today. So, now I sit here freaking out, as I tend to whenever good things start to happen in my life. Opportunities mean choices. Choices mean potential wrong choices. Often walking through one door means closing off another door.
I don't like changing furniture, but sometimes change just has to happen.