Believe it or not, I have had to move five times in one year. Coordinating such moves got tiresome. I never want to order bubble wrap again. And for that matter, ordeting packing tape brings me no joy. With each move, the boxes get less and less targeted. More specifically, the boxes have less and less specificity. No box is just solely kitchenware. Instead, a box can hold a toaster as well as tap shoes and a composition notebook. I love composition botebooks. Usually I use them for extensive notekeeping. How much I capture in my notebooks can frighten many people. To be honest, that is a bit thrilling.
In all my moves one item that ends up in completely random boxes are my 1,000s of pens. First, I love pens. Second, I’m constantly taking other people’s pens. The finer the pen point, the more excited and happy I get. Third, I have way too many pens and I tend to not throw them out. As a result, I have to find ways to pack all those pens. I have come to realize that I can readily save them but I really should not. Isn’t that true for many situations in life?
Categories: Psychology
SMiLes i’m not Afraid Now
Of Dying Took A Picture oF Life All THat’s Left is SouL
LikeLike
For some of us, they’re mementoes.
LikeLike
I can see and understand that.
LikeLike