Today has been thoroughly depressing. I have begun the process of packing up my belongings for the move. I decided to start with the closets. These I have hardly used in my two year residency here, filling them with junk. I don't have boxes to put things in yet, so mostly I have just been making different piles on the floor: garbage, recycling, goodwill, to be boxed up, etc. This was a slow process, like archeology, but instead of skulls and pottery fragments I am uncovering two years of life. The astonishing amount of detritus from my failed relationship with Amanda constantly giving me pause. To throw out a love letter written on the back of a small painting, crafted with great care and intimacy, once holding heavy emotion, is a strange experience. Too, I am leaving my home! Woe! I love my little apartment. sigh.
Ah, well. I am off now to drink beer and play pool. The balm of depression.
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