Memories and Christmas

So the re-arranging storage project is going well. I spend a few hours each day, get a good walk in, up two hills on the way back home, and upper body and arm exercises I don’t usually indulge in.

The easy part is now done. All the shelves of the shelving units I assembled are now full of boxes, and there is a stack of boxes lining the side of the storage unit. All uniform sized boxes with and without lids are now in the new unit. I even managed to consolidate and get rid of four entire boxes today, without trying hard.

The New, Smaller, More Organized Unit. Beautiful!

The hard part is now the odd sized things that didn’t fit in boxes, don’t stack and just are plain bulky. I have made it to the very back of my larger unit, and am currently storing the things I know I can recycle and throw out, when next I bring my car to load up. But the sides are still full of the odd sized thing, and I am worrying they might not all fit. Or fit, but not leave any room for the consolidation and get rid of project that this is all leading up to.

More than Halfway Emptied

Each day I bring home something, but not too much. Yesterday it was some Christmas lights, because I know I need to string some in my closet/vanity area. But today I found another two more boxes of Christmas lights, some even red, which would go much better with the decor. Today it was those vertical file holders, since I have a lot of projects I work on and put into manila folders but then lose track of. This will be helpful for home organization.

Yesterday I unearthed a purse I never actually used, and today I found the little handheld vacuum cleaner that would be much more useful for my wood floor apartment. I open a box, never knowing what might be inside, and sometimes it is a flood of memories, and sometimes it is like Christmas, the perfect present you had been looking for, finally here in front of you.

Today I unearthed my high school year book from junior year, and a stash of the original photos taken for graduation and year book of my senior year.

I remember being pretty bored junior year, as I was in exile from the private high school I was planning on graduating from, and was only able to take six classes at a time, rather than the eight or nine I had been taking. I was also being bulemic that year, and had no boyfriend. The previous year, I had been asked out on numerous dates, a first in my life. Next year, I was unhappy, bored and convinced I was unattractive. In a public school full of hundreds of students, I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t dating. And yet, looking at these year book photos, I was attractive. In fact, radiant. I had a lovely smile. And I see a friend of mine who had a crush on me for years, whom I finally did date for one week at the end of that year, and he’s pretty attractive too. We probably made a pretty cute couple. Our yearbook photos make us out to be looking happy, but I know we were both depressed for various reasons. Everyone from that high school that I have gotten back in touch with has lost touch with him. We all wonder what happened to him. And hope he is well. And more importantly, found happiness.

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