Moving

I always sort things into good and useless, I think it's called "wheat from the chaff" but I am not sure because like 98 percent of Americans, I am not a farmer. Anyway, I find this process very satisfying and orderly. These are my attractive coworkers, and these are my unattractive coworkers, and these are the bills that are shabby and going to the bank and these are the crisp ones to give as change, and that is the BART rider I would save if the train was on fire, and these are the destinations I would rather go to Iceland than and these are the destinations I would rather go to than Iceland.

It is really more satisfying than I expected to sort my things into things I am bringing to college and things I am abandoning to the attic. Sitting in my bedroom filled with odds and ends and old projects and seasonal clothes and just detritus of modern life is so sad, but standing in the spare room filled with those items that are essential or wonderful and just relevant to my new life is very satisfying. But my mattress is in the old broken things room and the catbox is in the new life room, so one guess where I still hang out.