Two months and I am still here

It has been two months since my babies left for college.  I have spent that time while not traveling largely alone.  I am struggling to find a consulting work or a full time job.  Right now I am out of prospects and feeling about the same as I did when I was 16 and couldn’t get a date if my life depended on it.

So I am entertaining myself by dieting and trying to sort through a lifetime of papers.  So far I am half way through a box of 2003.  If I can live to be 100 with nothing else to do I should be able to get it all done.  In the meantime I have turned my house into this total mess.  There are papers everywhere.  On the floor I have this good looking box I bought on sale last spring.  This is the box I will take when they tell me I can only take one box to the nursing home. Most of the items only have meaning to me, but they are things that remind me that I was loved.

I have also been playing mailman putting various pieces of paper in my kids rooms.  I am drowning in my own papers, so I am leaving the decision on tossing to them.  Except of course for those various “important” paper that I can trust them to know the true value of i.e. sport schedules and homework assignments.

On the kitchen counter I have a crisscrossed pile to be filled.  Interesting, because filing has never worked for me.  Years ago I missed a trip to London because I couldn’t find my passport.  I even took a day off of work to look and sorted through a mountain of paper.   Later I found it, in my file cabinet in a folder called Passport filled under P.

So in the end does it really matter where we put this stuff.  I have buried enough people in my life to know that most of one’s things get tossed out in the end.  I just need to dig through all these paper to find those little pieces of gold to go in my the box I take with me to my last home.

 

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