Lest anyone misinterpret, the fact that I’m really into getting rid of things right now is not a sign of underlying depression. It actually stems from the fact that I’ve finally recovered from the last move and have found the motivation to do the next round. I hope to remove the equivalent of a room full of crap by the end of winter. I started tonight with magazines and newspapers than have been in boxes more or less untouched for more than ten years (plus some things I got custody of in the divorce).
The motivational part is that (as I also had to do when I merged three houses into one) I have decided that I don’t really give a flying fuck how much most of this stuff might possibly be worth in some perfect world. I’m on a cleaning kick. I just want it fucking gone.
I am keeping the essentials, though, like all my TV Guides (no…I really have a lot of them and they’re actually organized), and my “Best of the Bay” issue of the Guardian, and the first porn magazine I ever bought as a 16-year-old in 1980.
But those old Interviews and Advocates are history.
Just an excuse to post a pretty picture I took when I was over there for a conference earlier this week. The colors are nicer when you look at it full-size.
It’s been over five years since I really lived there, and more than three since I sold the house. Time flies when you’re — um — old.
I’ve been tagging photos and doing some Groceteria updates all night. I’m about to read a bit of my Expo ’67 book and go to sleep. I have been on a complete social media, messaging, and broadcast blackout since I finished teaching a class at 7, so I can avoid the election returns till morning and get some sleep tonight. I have no idea right now what’s going on.
Two years ago, I spent election night in Ottawa, vowing not to watch the returns. I broke my vow and had one of the worst nights of my life. I will not relive that.
I’m fucking terrified.