Basement

They say that the basement represents our past. The place where we store our history. Mine is no different.

I've spent the last several hours tidying my basement. Deciding which toys can be donated to charity, which items I will sell online, and which I will be packing away in boxes to take to the next house. It's a soul-numbing activity. Putting aside items that matter. They all remind me of happy times, or sad, busy times, or quiet ones. So many pieces that attach themselves to our lives. Sometimes we forget how much of the now is actually constructed mostly from moments long ago.

Funny, there is no "next house" yet. Only the idea of one. It seems that when you intend to sell your house, you have to make it perfect. Not only pristine, from a tidy point of view, but also neutral. So neutral, in fact, that any item of a personal nature must go.

All that furniture you've had since high school -- gone, because everyone is supposed to have new, coordinated furniture. All of the photographs and artwork that has any meaning to you, whatsoever, must be removed and stored. Because, God forbid, no one wants to imagine you living there. No, they must only see themselves living in your house.

Even though, you're technically still living there.