"I have a feeling it all evens out, you know. At the very end of your life you're going to sit down at the table and you're gonna shuffle out the good and the bad, and it's all gonna make perfect sense to you when you figure out that in the accounting books it all comes out completely even. But then you're gonna ask, 'What was it all for?' and they're gonna say, 'Well, you did it, didn't you?'"
It’s that time again… moving time. Tine to un-decorate. Time to pack. Time to thin out all of my junk. There’s nothing like a move to help you get rid of things.
I started the process two weeks ago, packing small boxes of things, and sending them on their way. Now it’s down to the wire, and I have to get all the rest of this junk packed and ready to go for tomorrow. You’d think I have it pretty much done by now… but I don’t. Not even close. It doesn’t help that I could win trophies for my procrastinating skills, if there were such trophies. (See, I’m doing it again, by going off on a tangent about procrastinating…typical.)
Here’s my problem—I collect things. Not really any certain thing in particular, just things. So, I have a lot of things to sort through and thin out. I guess in a way I’m kind of lucky that I move so much, or I would have waaay more things in my collection of things, due to never having to thin it out. I sifted through my clothes, and got rid of about a third of what I had. Sounds great, right? No. I still have too much stuff. For example, I bought one of those vacuum-pack space-saving bags so I could put my down comforter in it and compress the hell out of it, and hopefully it would take up less space. The particular bag came with a free smaller ‘travel’ bag in the package with it. I decided to put my underwear in it. Well, let’s just say that now my underwear now only take up one-fifth of the volume in my giant suitcase, instead of one-half. The bag does its job marvelously, but my stuff is still too much. You may be wondering why I can’t just get rid of more stuff, and the answer is quite simple, really… because I NEED eighteen pairs of pajama pants, damn it! I NEED THEM!
I had some sort of analogy about an elephant in a petting zoo that I was going to use here, but I’m deliriously tired, and can’t remember it, so you’ll just have to make up your own, and hope it’s a funny as mine was going to be.
I know I said in my last post that I would update about my trip as soon as I got home. I also am aware that I didn’t do that. I don’t really feel like explaining why I didn’t do that (mostly because that explanation would probably go something like this: “I was too lazy”).
So, here it is. I went to Seattle. Then to Portland. Then back to Seattle. Then to Portland again. Then back to Seattle again. Then I came home to Denver. All in eight days. I went to visit my seester.
While nothing super eventful happened, I still got to explore a new city, and I really love to explore urban areas.
I won a slap bet against my brother-in-law. In case you were wondering, this place is not called The Butterfly Pavilion.
Yes, I went to the Space Needle, but I my camera battery was long dead so I didn’t take any pictures. It was lame, though, because a “private party” was being held there that evening, and they pretty much kicked us out early so they could set up for the party. They weren’t very good at keeping the party a secret, though, but I don’t know how you could hide a 300 pound ice sculpture in the shape of the new Seattle Sounders logo.
I went got to spend some quality time in my favorite book store.
Of course I went to Pike Place Market. I really liked it there, and went back a second time so I could get some pictures.
It was a pretty good trip.
