It's Hard To Type Like This

I'm sitting on the floor of my room. Most everything I own is now in a 5'x10'x9' box protected by a cardboard door and an expensive lock I was tricked into buying.

"Don't worry," they told me..."we only had 2 break-ins in the last week."

I realized I collect allot of stuff. Junk. But all of which is kept in the name of memory/remembrance/sentimentality. I threw allot out.

Sure I'm physically moving, but this will be much more than simply a physical move for me.

I have, however, discovered why we type at chest level, and not sitting cross-legged on the floor typing with the keyboard on the ground. My wrists already hurt.

Too much is changing too fast....but my now white walls remind me how easy it is to start new like nothing has happened. Except for the nail holes, thumb tack holes, rubber cement residue, and general smudges that have shown up over these last couple years.

If you need me I won't be around for a while.

You can consult my doppelganger in the meantime.

But be careful...he bites.