I have this small maple pedestal desk – well, had this desk, until about an hour ago – since childhood. I wrote stories on it, drew pictures on it, typed on it with my then-beloved electric typewriter. It originally belonged to my great-grandfather. Once I outgrew it, and it proved unusable for computer use, I used it as a TV/stereo stand and as extra storage space. Its varnish was badly damaged, both from long use and from being taped shut (and then the tape being ripped off) during a move many years ago. But still I hung onto it, thoughtlessly.
But recently I decided that no, I was never going to make good on my self-promise to refinish the thing, and even if I did, I had no use for it. Ilana already has a matching desk and dresser, an adult friend’s from childhood. So I realized that, if I am to remain consistent with my organizing belief system, the desk had to go.