This is a thrift sweatshirt I recently altered. The kissing bunnies are a bit spooky I think.
Ahh, the Crushmeister (Orange Crush, our new cat, a.k.a. furry captive.)
Moving, whether changing houses, disposition, or focus, hopefully entails eliminating baggage. Stuff is easy: thrift, garage sale, incoming grad student, eBay. What about more intangible baggage: loose ends, broken promises and feelings of abandonment? I could lug them myself (as I am always inclided to do, right before I pull a muscle and pull my hair out.) What if those bags are carried by a guy called Integrity? Will he conveniently lose them on the way to the plane? Will he, in his prideful, carefree way, stop to grab an airport cup of coffee while someone else makes off with the bags? Will Old Man Integrity decide to exchange my Target brand suitcases for Prada as a thank you for employing his services? Does this all mean I skip freely to my terminal? How much does he charge? Could I, in the spirit of relieving myself of five bags, actually be purchasing a new bag?
One thing is for sure, as I sort through my stuff, tangible and intangible, it is freeing to lose things I know I won't need anymore. It frees up space, time and energy. But are we as humans (or Americans) destined to always feel like we have something or things that take up too much space, time and energy? Or do we never have enough? I forget.
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