Okay, so moving is SHIT. I HATE moving. I have also figured out that I am completely fucking psychotic and never throw anything away. Those do not go hand-in-hand. They are completely seperate problems, one of which I can fix. Guess which one?
I live with someone who not only keeps every souvenir he's ever bought, but the receipt for every souvenir he's ever bought. Convincing him to let go of the littlest thing never fails to make me feel guilty. He's obsessive about remembering, and I obsess about starting anew. Somehow it works though.
Once Upon A Time, I was a Welfare Mommy. I put myself through college and became a Welfare Worker, all while keeping my sardonic sense of humor in check. Then I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis, quit my job, and now stay at home and raise three kids, ages 17, 13, and 6.
I can cook but can't "throw something together", I want to clean but procrastinate, but most of all I want to find myself.
2 comments:
I live with someone who not only keeps every souvenir he's ever bought, but the receipt for every souvenir he's ever bought. Convincing him to let go of the littlest thing never fails to make me feel guilty. He's obsessive about remembering, and I obsess about starting anew. Somehow it works though.
Wow, even receipts have memories I guess, huh?
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