rearranging the bedroom furniture
When I was a kid, starting from about, I don't know, 11 years old or so, every 3 to 6 months I would completely rearrange the furniture in my bedroom. I can't honestly tell you why I would do it: just one morning I'd wake up, look at the ceiling, and think, "I don't want to wake up on this side of my bedroom anymore." And then it was on: I'd lock my bedroom door and go on a purging rampage, clearing out anything I didn't need, shoving heavy furniture across the floor to its new position, rearranging office supplies on my desk. A few hours later, I'd grab my long-suffering parents and sister and pull them into my room. "Come see how it looks!" I'd say eagerly.
"It looks great!" they'd feign delight, and barely hide their eye rolls as they walked away, knowing that it was going to happen all over again in about 10 to 12 weeks.
It wasn't just my bedroom I was restless about either: for example, my handwriting was something I obsessed over for most of my teen years. I'd spend hours perfecting how I made an R or a Q, and completely redo my handwriting every year or so, so that it looked like I thought I was. If you were to scan any letters or cards or notes I wrote in my childhood, you could almost guess my age depending on my handwriting -- and it would wildly differ from one phase to the next. In fact, as long as we're being totally honest here, my current handwriting (which my father describes as "pretty, but deeply illegible") has had the same appearance for only a little over a decade. At this point, it does feel like me, though, so I suspect I'll keep it going forward.
You're concerned for me right now, aren't you?
Wait, there's more.
Not content to keep my restlessness confined to my bedroom decor and my handwriting, once I went off to university, I would often change the way I looked and dressed as well. Sadly, my clothing (and sometimes makeup) was often influenced by whichever musical artist held my fascination at the time, resulting in a few unfortunate phases that included a disastrous Like A Virgin period, and a couple of months where, I'm sorry to say, I was 2 Legit 2 Quit.
I know. I know.
That said, over the last few years or so, I've remained pretty consistent -- I did grow my hair out when I was writing my book, and promptly cut it all off when it was finally published, but other than that, I've remained relatively quiet. * My appearance hasn't varied much, my handwriting remains comfortably unreadable, and I rarely listen to pop music anymore. I've been steady as a rock, baby.
Recently, I've been feeling that tell-tale restlessness again. A few weeks ago, I cut off all my hair, shorter than I've worn it in years, and instead of just letting it grow again until I got tired of it (my habit over the last few years), I've been going back to my stylist regularly to keep it short. I've been sustaining a daily yoga practice for months now. My taste in clothing is changing (don't worry, neither Lady Gaga nor Ke$ha are style inspirations) (yet). I'm writing differently.
It appears I might be in the mood to rearrange my bedroom furniture again, figuratively-speaking.
So fair warning: I suspect this restlessness might also manifest in a site redesign. It won't happen for a few weeks, and I'll be sure to alert you before I do anything, but it's coming. The content of Chookooloonks will remain the same -- even in my most volatile teenage times, when my appearance and bedroom were wildly changing, my core being remained constant, and so it will go with Chookooloonks -- but the site will likely look different, in a pared-down, cleaner way. In a way that helps focus on story.
And I promise to try hard to be mindful enough that you won't actually have to feign delight.
* Marcus would rush to clarify that by "quiet," I mean "made him help me paint a few rooms in our house, not to mention -- late last year -- undergoing a pretty extensive kitchen renovation." Whatever, man. Those things had to happen.
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