The Illuminated Donkey

The packing continues, as I once again go through the process of winnowing out the dross that I have collected over the past dozen or so years. This move is forcing me to make some harsh choices, as the condo I’ll soon be living in will be my smallest living space ever (it has a lot of wonderful features, but storage space isn’t one of them). Anyway, I came across a batch of personal papers I hadn’t looked at since I got back from Seattle 16 months ago: essays, anguished letters to myself, embarrassing scraps of attempted wisdom, reminders of moods I’d rather forget, and the like. This has happened to me before, me coming across some deep, heartfelt notes to a future me, and rather than appreciate the honesty I just want to go back in time and slap myself around. Of course, my next thought was that it all might make a decent blog post, so the cycle continues, I suppose.