The Last Box

Today was the type of day when you clean. I woke up late, lazed around in bed listening to Beethoven and thumbing through social networks until I got up and went to indulge my favorite Saturday vice – breakfast out.

It’s been a difficult week.  Nasty financial surprises, unexpected emotional landmines, and more pizza and soda on Friday than was good for me. There is no truer expression of karma than when the junk food you eat for comfort makes you sick later.

So today turned into “CLEAN ALL THE THINGS”.  I dusted, swept, mopped and purged, and when I reached the bedroom I encountered it.  The last box.

I moved almost a year ago. Everything else was unpacked, sorted, and the boxes sold (yay Craigslist) within the week. I’m like that – I don’t like things to sit and fester, and I’ve had more than enough clutter for this lifetime, thank you. But I knew what was in this box, and I wasn’t ready to face it. So it sat alone on the lower row of a book shelf, sealed and safe.

Until today.

Now there’s a new last box in my house. The frying pan I picked up on a thrift store trawl but never used. Christmas items that will make other people happy but aren’t for me. Wooden boxes that held old wishes and secrets. It’s sitting next to another box, filled with care package items and craft projects for the new people and memories in my life, happier ones.

Like me, they’re ready to move on.

Published in: on January 14, 2012 at 16:50  Leave a Comment  

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