Yeah, yeah, I know its already the seventh. But I was camping on the first. Also on the second and third. Then I was busy being HOT, and keeping my kids from killing one another. But I have also been thinking about goals and plans for the year. This morning/afternoon, I pulled out all the American History and Writing and Spirituality books I had crammed in the nooks and crannies of my living room and bedroom. It’s quite an impressive stack, especially considering that the digital books aren’t even represented. Apparently, I plan to spend a lot of time in coffee kiosks in the next 390 days, reading. It has to be a coffee kiosk, and not a food court, because I am trying to give up soda, but I will save that for another day. And also more on my study plan. Because right now, I have something else to say.
In accordance with my decision to look at, sort, and scrapbook the pictures I have of my dad, I went into the trunk today to pull them all out. And I did. But while I was in there, I found a box of memorabilia from school. I’m not sure what all is in there, though I recognized the souvenir book from one of my proms and programs from a couple of plays I was in. Here’s the deal. I shut the box. I kept it out of the trunk because I also saw a few pics of my dad, but I didn’t dig through it much. The truth is, that damn box unnerved me. I’m just not sure I am ready to see what all is in there. How can a half-empty box that only measures 9x12x4 rattle me so?