So, I packed all of my stuff. It took about an hour an a half. There are two big tupper ware like tubs, four boxes, and like six bags. And most of that is clothes and shoes (I am gay, after all.) When I was done, I sat on the end of the bed and I looked at it all. I am 35 years old, and that is all that I have to show for my life. its a bummer. Somewhere there are dozens of notebooks with all kinds of stories. All of my school yearbooks, all kinds of photos, and copious amoutns of crap that give some kind of idea of what I am where I came from, and who I once was.
Now, some people would say that this is okay. Some people would that that is sad, some people would so not care. Depending on how sentimental a person is. I am pretty sentimental, and I miss all of those things, but I only have myself to blame for losing them.
