The weight of a bed
For my new apartment, I purchased a bed. It was a queen size, made of reclaimed wood. The headboard was like a thick wall, and the delivery men complained that they had to carry it to the third floor. Together with a firm mattress, that store clerk was eager to sell, I spent about $2,000, the most I ever spent on a piece of furniture.
Once setting the matching bedside table next to the bed, I became anxious. I sat on the carpeted floor of the still-empty living room and imagined my apartment furnished with a dining table, bookshelves, floor lamp, desk, sofa, ottoman, and art on the wall. The weight of the bed was already immense. If I put on more, I wouldn’t be able to move. I didn’t want my apartment to be complete, because my life was not, so I’d leave half of it almost empty for the future.