Is it mental to constantly rearrange the furniture?
You know what, with me it’s not just the furniture, it’s more or less everything. And by constantly I mean at a bare minimum once a week. It starts off shifting things around to do some cleaning, and before I know it a living room bookshelf is in the bedroom, the couch and the love seat have traded places, an upstairs thing goes downstairs and vice versa.
Mostly nobody cares what direction the kitchen table happens to be facing at the moment, or at what odd new angle they need to hold their heads to watch tv. Sometimes though the things I do cause temporary chaos for the people who are not me. I moved the coffee maker to a different spot on the counter and then shifted all the coffee cups to the cupboard above it. Then I had to rearrange the dishes in the previous coffee cup space and one thing lead to another until pretty much everything was shifted around. There was a lot of cupboard door opening and closing and grumbling and sighing for a while but we all lived through it.
The tea towel drawer for years was beside the oven, and the junk drawer was between the sink and the dishwasher. Stupid, right? Bedlam for days after I changed that, even though the switch made perfect sense.
My changes often don’t last long. If they did I’d soon run out of options. And I admit many of them aren’t practical. Like recently when I got tired of constantly opening and closing the cupboard doors under the sink to put stuff in the garbage and the compost bin. I put two small lined baskets on the counter top, one for each of these things, and the large garbage can in the pantry closet. Then I was constantly emptying the small containers into the bigger ones and explaining why there wasn’t a garbage can under the sink anymore, and getting the little baskets mixed up and being mad at them for taking up counter space and smelling bad. Everything is now all changed back to the way it was. I know when to admit defeat.
Maybe it’s our previous nomadic life I’m missing that makes me crave changes in my surroundings. We lived in 8 different places before this one. And now this house is too big for just the two of us and the stairs are my least favourite part of it. Something small and more manageable would be ideal. With fewer spaces to move things to and from. It’s exciting to think about.
Maybe it’s simply the desire to improve things. Thinking ‘this is good, but something different might be better’. Whatever the reason I expect I’ll keep doing it as long as I’m able. Or until I can’t remember where anything is. Like that hasn’t already started. OOPS didn’t mean to say THAT out loud.