Just spent the last five hours going through all the stuff I've accumulated in the last two years and three months living in our apartment.
A pile of GamePlan calling cards. Renegade photos. My now super-ratty freshman college journal (oh, the drama). A small spiral notebook with a photo of Angela Chase & Jordan Catalano on the cover. A "Certificate of Appreciation" from Carrera Habagat. A little scrap of paper with "My sister Katia" and a phone number on it, in very European handwriting. A pocket map of Paris, a million and one CPI acknowledgment receipts, and birthday cards from Charlie's Angels.
And the most painful pile of all--my New School University & Leeds Metropolitan University papers in OC-ily labeled envelopes ("Housing", "Visa", "Financial Statements", "Acceptance Letters Etc."), complete with checklists.
That pile has been under my bed (in this apartment, and the last) for the past 3 years. Didn't realize I'd been holding on to it so...tangibly. So cobwebs and why-didn't-I-wear-a-mask-listen-to-your-mother-ly.
So I threw them all out. And now I'm sure I'm in for a white night--and a bad cough tomorrow morning. Sigh.
Your vision will become clear only when you look into your heart. Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens. - Carl Jung
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This is Phase...4? 5? 3,000? of Oplan Lipat Bahay. All three of us have been so busy at work we haven't had time to really dig our heels into this and coat ourselves with dust from head to toe--though Da Sistah has done a truly kickass job overseeing the painting and the tiling and the baseboard-ing (which comes, unfortunately, with the occasional backache).
We've already dumped our most precious cargo in the new place (CDs/DVDs, books, bags and shoes). So now all that's left is all our furniture, appliances, plates, glasses, curtains, toiletries and clothes.
I have half a mind to burn it all and just start from scratch.
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