(Yet another pic of a pile of my clothes! There's a REASON why purgation and purgatory share etymological roots! ...But there's some really, really choice stuff in there.)
Setting up temporary partial residence at my parent's house, and it's like a halfway house for my previous notion that I had gotten rid of everything I could've.
I say halfway house because I have already moved (partially, though wholly - not to the destination yet; still am somewhat present in the Land O' Lincoln Rabidity) so I have already had the benefit of being oppressed by my belongings. So I am in the thick of YET ANOTHER PURGE and the mountain of discarded clothes is starting to look bigger than my actual wardrobe and if you think I'm ashamed, it's only slightly. Mostly I just don't want to have this happen again. Then I will be ashamed. The last 3 years were Years of Thrift and I don't foresee that being the case anymore (though of course I still like to thrift!).
This isn't interesting.
What is interesting to me right now is taking a long bath and counting my bruises and looking forward to just getting dressed and writing and not moving. Not that I'm bitter.
No really - I'm not.
I'm quite happy, in fact. :)
(...and if you read this and live in Illinois and want to come by to look at the stuff I'm selling, please let me know. And, if you don't live in Illinois but want something please ask. I will either sell it to you or outright give it to you. Seriously.)