Packing

It's almost frightening how quick and easy it is to dismantle this life. An hour of packing, and my artwork is mostly off the walls, my cookbooks are all packed. This place is no longer a home, but a transitional space. I had meant to go around and take pictures so that I could remember better, but I just didn't get around to it somehow. Anyway, I hate long goodbyes. This little place has served me well. It's time to move forward through space and time, not back. In an almost cliche bit of trivia, there is a coffee tray leaning against my door just now. One drunken night, I scrawled, in black sharpie, across its shiny white surface, "Where's the Adventure in Not Doing It?" I propped it above my windows so it was the first thing I would see when I came thru my front door. Soon enough, I put it away, but still kept it around. Now it's on its way to the dumpster. I don't need it anymore, but maybe someone who needs it will come across it and take it home.