Things I Want Out of My Life Right F-ing Now

John and I are coming up on our tenth wedding anniversary. Back when I was a child bride, nothing made me more excited than registering for gifts and finding special items with which to furnish our new apartment. I had such huge plans. I was going to throw lavish dinner parties. I would make cookies every year to give as gifts at Christmastime. I was going to be the next Martha Stewart. Apparently I was confusing myself with Bizarro Julie, because I, my friends, am no Martha Stewart. I've never thrown a lavish dinner party. If I ever made cookies at Christmas time, they ended up in my stomach instead of in the hands of my friends.

So now we've been married for ten years and we've lived in our house for seven, and there are objects in this house I've never used. There are things I have been holding on to on the off chance that someday Prince William and the Duchess of Cambridge might stop over for tea, that someday I might morph into the kind of person who entertains and/or uses margarita glasses on the regular.

But now, sorting through closets and cabinets, I'm realizing that someday is probably not going to come. I yam who I yam, as they say. When people come over, I don't make specialty drinks. I hand them a beer or open up a bottle of wine. I may have decorations and dishes for specific holidays, but, like Harry Potter, they live under the stairs and rarely see the light of day. I have a cache of bowls and serving platters and cute little plates, but, when push comes to shove, I use the same three serving pieces over and over and put out paper plates or the ones I use every day. I have a whole tower of cookbooks and I use about five of them.

So, I'm getting rid of it all. I'm selling it or giving it away. I no longer want to be burdened by the thought of "someday." And, besides, I need to make room in my house for all the kids' baby toys that I can't seem to part with.

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