(no subject)

The thing with the piano is I really do know it's not a thing to do with the piano.

It's to do with the feeling that we build on shifting sand, and that my continued existence, and that of my family, depends on the uninformed antics of a bunch of over privileged white men, and I cannot do anything about that. Voting doesn't do a heck of a lot when the actions of those voted for do not resemble the promises made before the votes. Neither does it help when the other lot win anyway. Nor can I do much about living in a safe seat where my vote barely pipes a protest in the first place.

I read the news, I see the arguments, I see them lie and lie and lie - or to be fair be utterly ignorant of their own policies and work that affects most recently half a million people.
And I get a bit anxious.

Funnily enough.

I know it is then not rational to try and hold on to every last unwanted possession on the off chance it will be the one thing I turn out to need, but, that's the emotion behind it. Emotion that used to result in an empty envelopes collection, so by many measures I am doing much, much better.

But we're now down to getting rid of great grandma's piano, so it has a symbolic weight actually exceeding its not inconsiderable bulk. And I have tried to give it to family, but none of them want it. So. Have arranged for a charity to come and take it away.

And it is not easy to let go of. Even though I haven't played the thing for twenty years. Because for eighteen years it has just been there.

But back in the land of the rational, it has just been there. I can replace it with a table that will be much more useful.

So, hopefully they will want to take it away today.

possibly deity does not want me to get rid of this piano

*big sigh*

So, it turns out, a piano sized piano is in fact both large and heavy.
Two big lads with no equipment are not, as it turns out, sufficient to move it.
Which, you know, I considered a thing one could extrapolate from the description 'piano', but as it turns out, no.

*very big sigh*

I still have a piano.

It is, as they pointed out, a nice looking piano. And indeed, since it was my great grandma's, keeping it seems quite nice.

Until it has been sitting there for 18 years taking up a piano sized space in a one bedroom flat leaving room for two chairs if we're cosy.

At that point I quite wanted to swap it for a table and be able to host meals where we all sit down at once.

*sigh again*

letting it go...



On the other hand they did take the bookcase away happily, so I no longer own any black furniture. Yaays. Now I can replace it with actual wood, strong enough to hold the things as actually need holding.

... bookcase was stuck to the paint on the wall. clever, earlier me. :eyeroll:

but the bits of itself it left behind came off with a good scrubbing, so that's okay.



Also the bed people have messaged me to say they'll send some spare parts so a local handyman can fix the bed. Which is nice. But they also say the bed should never be moved? Ever? Even a couple of inches? Because dragging the bed probably broke it? And I kind of expect something I have spent £500 on to be able to stand up to a bit of jiggling such as found in attempts to make the bed. So, you know, not optimal.



One of these days I'm going to win the lottery and buy the house of my dreams, and in it I will put a bed bought from a specialist website, if I can find such again, made out of nice solid wood and with interesting attachment points. Because at least in some subcultures they build furniture they expect to take some punishment.



I realise my problems are petty compared to the actual world right now, given that I can't really the real world right now.

And I'm basically one small step further towards progress than I was this morning.

But I still get that feeling of running real fast to stay in place, and tortoise progress is really frustrating.