Miles to Go Before I Sleep

I am thoroughly exhausted this evening--mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. After a day spent getting the car we're going to sell repaired and then cleaned, I feel as though if one more thing is subtracted from my life I will simply collapse from lack of material identity. I watched as the car wash attendants detailed the car and realized that strangers will be looking at it tomorrow and evaluating not only the condition of the car but my self as well by the bumper stickers I selected so carefully to display: one rainbow sticker in support of my LGBT friends and neighbors; one Earth sticker in support of my planet; and one American flag in support of my country. What do those three statements say about me when taken together? I don't know how others will read them. Just like I don't know how they'll read the few things we have left on display in the house--we've taken down almost everything to make the house more "sale-able." And it's been totally repainted inside and out, a plain, boring white interior. Everywhere. Not even a contrasting trim to be found! It wears on me to live in such a characterless environment. I can't wait to move into our new place (once we sell this one and can buy a new place) and infuse it with Us again. Color, personality, clothes hanging on the line... I feel like a privileged ass whining about having to live in a plain white house when so many people on this planet don't even have a shelter of any sort. Get a grip, de Mott! Attitude adjustment needed. I'll go lie down and count my blessings now.