My Life

After being married for almost five years and living in the same house, Mike has finally become willing to let go of his "My Life" box.

At first it was just a box used for moving when we first got married and moved in together. Then it became a storage box with all of his old softball coaching T-shirts in it. Then it became his night stand (with the shirts still inside and a lamp on top of it) next to our bed for about 3 years.

Two years ago we bought a night stand--a real one made of real wood--okay so it's veneer, but you get idea. Was he willing to give My Life away? Nope.

It stayed in the corner of our room next to the real night stand for two more years. My Life became a dust-gathering resident of our bedroom, complete with permanent dent on the top from where the lamp sat on it and left its impression. I began to wonder if My Life was here to stay. I pictured Mike and myself in a retirement home, drooling in rocking chairs with My Life between us, its withering, corrugated cardboard walls breeding silverfish and earwigs.

A few weeks ago we had some friends over and in the process of cleaning the house, I hid My Life in our closet--just to make our bedroom seem not so ghetto. Interestingly, this small shift in bedroom geography had a radical effect on Mike's consciousness. He finally became willing to release My Life box (and its contents) to the Universe.

Hallelujah!

My Life hasn't actually gone yet; it's in the "give-away" pile while we wait for the pink bag from the Dorothy Brown School for Orphans to show up on our front door. I do, however, feel quite confident that on a Tuesday morning very soon between 7:00 and 9:00 am, My Life will be leaving us and starting a new life somewhere else.

Keep your fingers crossed!