Sometimes what has been buried away for quite some time is a little cloisonne box filled with very, very dry marijuana and you think, why not? It is at this point in the story when the packing up of one's home of a year comes to a fixed halt. The previous activity is replaced with such doings as trying on over-sized blue sunglasses that your mom wore skiing at Heavenly during the spring of 1986. Then there's the wine...one may or may not have, oh, 1 - 2 glasses of it. Later on, its possible that The Ronettes might come on the iTunes and the mood turns nostalgic as you come across old photos that you still haven't figured out a proper home for. You could sit there with one...trying to figure out what month it was taken, pondering your hair color at that time, trying remember everything else you did that day that was not captured in that snapshot and before you know it, a half hour has passed.

As I told Ryan_Not_Brian, "sometimes you have to stop and smell the roses."

Plus, I have up until September 30 to be out of this place.

I've got time.

To be continued...

09 September 2004 - 10:04 PM

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