the process of going through your belongings is the coolest and worst thing you can go through. weeding out stuff you don't need to keep feels good, at the same time i've been spending a lot of time wondering why i kept any of that old junk. i'm also traipsing down memory lane every five minutes, which makes for slow going. i wish i could say i was less attached to "things," that i had a more buddhist relationship to physical objects, but i am most certainly not that enlightened. holding something from a specific time in my life feels good. notes written from friends past and present are nice to read. knowing that i was thought of, cared about, that someone put a stamp on a letter from far away, just for me, is an ego boost. which isn't to say my self esteem is so bad i need that kind of thing (i can't quit any time i like! get off my back!), but i think more people can relate to that feeling than not.
in any case, it's too humid to paint the nook, so i'm trying to pare down the things that will eventually live in there. it's not exciting, and when i look at all the boxes i have to go through, i want to weep (i am a packrat, although i am a packrat who is getting better). i'm not bad enough to be a tv show yet, so let's just keep it that way, shall we?