One week to the next

How did this happen? In precisely one week I will be in New York, and suddenly everything is scattered all over the floor again, ready to be blown away by the slightest whimsical breeze. A bin full of magazines. Clean laundry half folded. In three weeks I have gone from dashing down Olympic on foot to a terrifying temp job, to sleeping-in and wandering into a familiar office where there are always dogs and music, to laying awake at night wondering how I am ever going to make a decision about school when three weeks ago it wasn’t even a prospect.

Every little thing in my house weighs down upon me. How will I move it? Where will it go? And if I can’t take it with me, how will I get rid of it? How can I get rid of it? Books. Boxes of letters and postcards. Gifts from ex-boyfriends. A tennis racquet I’ve hardly used and a Casio keyboard with one broken key. A dozen pictures in frames. Maybe I just get rid of the frames.

And somehow, as all these things are blowing around me, I know that it does little good to even think about “things” when it is unlikely that my current circumstances will bear any resemblance to my situation three months from now. In the meantime, I think I will throw away my cd cases, and maybe the picture frames too. And if anyone wants a bookcase come August, let me know… but don’t expect my answer not to change.