Moving Out, Moving On

Cobwebs grow in places where people don't often tread. So too do they grow on memories you don't often revisit.

The process of moving out of the apartment is slow, unpleasant, physically demanding, and emotionally painful. I am currently trying to look for the motivation to get out of my cozy little corner of the world and into something much bigger and, I hope, better.

Since Erica is hauling the dresser out of here tonight, I need to find a place to put my clothing, both the few things I put in the drawers and the dozens of wrinkled, faded T-shirts I love to toss on top of it. I bought, for the express purposes of "Goin' to college, man!"^TM, two ridiculously large duffle bags from the Army surplus store in Clearfield, PA. These are the kinds of bags in which they put bodies in contemporary noir movies.

I haven't opened them since 2001. Everything inside them is something I haven't used in years. So today I opened them up and placed all the old clothes into a trash bag. Maybe I'll donate the salvageable stuff, but it's more likely that a lot of it is just going to get the toss.

And it feels good. I'm lightening my load, in more ways than one.

Current theme: They Might Be Giants, Take Out the Trash