Leaving the old stuff behind

I was trying to decide what to write about when it hit me that first I should tell you that I am SOOO excited because after next Wednesday, I'll be blogging from home instead of work (for you this means blogs that may actually be interesting and well-thought out). Yes, I did it. I took the plunge (again) and hopefully this relationship will be more fruitful than my marriage. The broadband guy is coming to web-up my computer on Wednesday. Yay! Now, off on my tangent.
Tomorrow morning I will be up bright and early in my garage waiting on people to come snatch up the remnants of my past. That's right, I'm having a garage sale, and I'm being philisophical about it. It just seems sad in a way. A lot of the stuff I'm getting rid of is the kids'. Their old clothes they wore twice and then outgrew, the toys that have been sitting on the shelf collecting dust because they're getting too old for them, and most of all, their bunk beds, because they don't stay over as much as they used to and never sleep on the top bunk when they do anyway. It's my dreams of not-so-long-ago being bought for quarters by people who have no idea what they meant.
Depressing, huh?
I can hardly believe it either. About a year and a half ago, I thought I had it all. A little rough around the edges all, but all none-the-less. I had a marriage, and insta-kids, and a good job, and a home, and before the girlfriend (who I forgot to mention I ran into at the grocery store last week) could get her pants off, it was gone. Now, I see the kids a couple times a month for an afternoon or so, and my little brother is moving into their room and off my couch. Blah.
I don't know if I'm in one of those moods because I haven't talked to MOMD for a week or because I'm stressed over school and work or if it's just life in general that does it to me, but every once in a while I just feel like crying. I know that it's all a part of getting over things and moving on, and it's all just a bunch of stuff that I'm really not going to use anymore, but still. That's not the point. When I got married (albeit to a complete asshole), I had expectations and maybe, just maybe, it's about it not living up to them. I don't know, but hopefully I'll at least make a little extra money.
Oh yeah, and I just wanted to tell Peggy in Chicago that I feel really guilty about smoking again because of her........and my parents.
Anyway, wish me luck. It's four o'clock and time to go. Hugs.