See? I’m a lot like an award winning actress. Since I was a wee little child, I have felt a burning need to rearrange my life starting with the furniture.
At first I was only compelled to start “The Big Shove” as I’ve come to think of it, to the first few hours after a trip of more than two or three hours.
When I was 13 and spent two months at a camp in North Carolina, I moved my piano clear across the house while mother was grocery shopping. That didn’t make her very happy and she should have gotten me some therapy right then and there.
Now it’s happening weekly and I’m thinking of seeing a shrink to find out why I’m so driven to keep changing things. Move the sofa then you must clean the floors under the sofa and rehang the pictures. My walls are beginning to look like Swiss cheese.
What makes it all the more difficult is that my personal style hovers between Downton Abbey and Duck Dynasty. My furniture arrangement depends on whether I’m channeling Lady Mary Crowley or Uncle Si. One day I’m wearing an apron cleaning with a feather duster and the next I’m trying to create a dust blower with two hair dryers and the remote control from a Tonka Truck.
Now, the problem has been further complicated by the need to decorate for Christmas even though no one will be here to enjoy it. Why do I bother? Because it gives me an excuse to shove things around to make room for the nine Christmas trees – count ‘em – NINE (all fake), They range in size from Charlie Brown to a six footer I place on a riser to make it even more imposing. (Sigh, I once said I’d never resort to a fake tree but “lazy” got the best of me.)
I’ll let you in on a big secret. I leave the trees decorated and move them into a large storage room to marinate until the day after the next Thanksgiving. I think a lot of “older” folks are doing this because you no longer have little ones around to help decorate.
I googled “compulsive furniture rearranging” and learned that the activity supposedly hides a deeper anxiety and inner turmoil and helps direct the mind away from fears and insecurities. It must be working because I feel great once the deal is done.
The house is deliciously rearranged; hot dogs are roasting on an open fire; and I’m dreaming of how I will redecorate in the New Year when I get back from Nashville and everything gets shoved around again.