All of my clothes are piled in an open suitcase in the middle of my bedroom floor, and have been since I got back from Ireland last May.

I am the anti-bonny.

Anti-obsessive is probably a better thing to be.

eta: not to be all drama-llama, but my need for this kind of order stems from blah-blah-blah-childhood trauma-blah.

My father was in the military, which is where the closet thing came from. Plus, if anything was ever found to be out of order, very, very bad things happened.

Obviously, I don't have to do that stuff anymore, but my physiology finds it comforting.

Not a thing to brag about.

You do NOT lie over the ocean!
You do NOT lie over the sea!

Anti-obsessive is probably a better thing to be.

Not when you can't find your socks.

You do NOT lie over the ocean!

You do NOT lie over the sea!

I only wish I could laugh at that.

my physiology finds it comforting.

I feel that. (Not for the same reason, but...yeah.)

I have this urge to just-- get rid of a bunch of stuff. And making sweeping changes in my life. I'm not sure if this is part of the grieveing process. Or part of the new year but I just want to -- sign up for martial arts or a drawing class or do something. I've wanted to do that but my schedule and money haven't allowed it. The feeling I've wasted my life has intensified and I want to change that, those feelings have been bubblign around but this has just brought it all forth really strongly.

About 5-6 years ago or so, a huge number of people very close to me died (well, 4, but that was a lot for close family and family-like people in about a year). I realized, in general that life was for living and I couldn't keep trying to stick to any sort of script. This led to moving to New Orleans and then quitting a secure job to be a full time writer.

This shit just clarifies priorities and I urge the examination of any ideas that come up.

With this last spate of mortality reminding (Kara and ita and Mack), I'm just drinking more, which isn't probably the best thing, but I can roll with it for a while before figuring out the next move. Ya know. It's New Orleans, this place is sort of built for that kind of coping strategy, at least in the short term.

PS, I have been drinking.

Steph, I actually have something in common with Tim.

Cardboard tubes. Cardboard boxes. Baskets. Plastic bins.

They are mostly well stacked, but yeah. It's a problem.

I've got one painted basket with a cloth liner that I've dragged around my life for no less than 30 years. I just can't ever seem to get rid of it.

Tsk.

My response to the mortality-reordering is bringing me to fantasize about quitting my job with the pet care company.

I won't be rash, but in the face of people with, you know, actual problems, the whole BO issue with the boss makes me wonder what it would take to live without such trivialities.

edited for clarity of intention.

I recommend rashness.

But again, I have been drinking.

So.