Moving is always a bit overwhelming. Every time I walk into
my old condo, there seems to be so much to do, I don’t know where to start. The
other evening I was there sorting through paperwork, and here is the proof I am
a terrible pack rat: I found notes from a classmate of mine when we were in
middle school! So of course I had to read them, and boy, were we shallow back
then! I did save a couple with really interesting references to life in the 80’s
and funny doodles on them, but why I had saved all of them for so long, I
really can’t say. They were mostly my friend complaining about other girls in
her class, her parents, the teachers… you know, the usual things middle school
kids complain about. Plus how she wanted to go eat junk food; it seems like we
all ate junk food in the 80’s but we were thin. Now I rarely eat junk food, and
I am not thin. And it can’t be just an age thing either, because now there seem
to be so many tubby kids. Back when my friend Jennifer (that was 50% of girls
in the 80’s, and the other 50% were Heather) and I were writing notes to each
other, there would be one tubby kid in the school, and he or she would be
teased mercilessly. I wonder if tubby kids still are, now that they are in the
majority? Maybe we walked more in the 80’s, because I remember walking all over
town with Jennifer, and Heather too. If we wanted to get somewhere further
away, like the swimming pool, and our parents couldn’t/wouldn’t take us, we
would bike there. Boy, am I starting to feel middle-aged, discussing how things
were “in my day.” So moving not only is a big pain, it also reminds you of how
old you really are.
Famous Hat
1 comment:
I can totally relate. You never know how much stuff you have until you have to move it. It's hard parting with the memories of things you once loved, but now have to part with.
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