I began the excavation of my bedroom yesterday.
I thought some thoughts of liberating myself from my not-at-all metaphorical mess, it being July 4 and all. More ironically, a little chuckle to myself, than anything meaningful, though.
Coming home, strangely alone due to some quirk in traffic patterns, I decided to work on the room 30 minutes, and try to commit to that more or less regularly for awhile. The only way to move forward, really, when this room has been sitting the same or getting worse for ages now. I only just thought of it, but it's a rather vapid metaphor for my life, I suppose, or a parallel at least.
Anyway, so I thought some more, and I figured why not make it 30 min cleaning and 30 min writing here. Maybe progress in cleaning can dovetail with progress in moving forward in my life. At the very least, I can write again, and the things I find will provide easy-to-use prompts, no matter how inane. One must start somewhere, after all.
Personal archaeology.
Today, among other things, I found many tickets, mostly to movies. I won't get into all the echoes form the past, the regrets and remembered joys and so forth there. I'll simply leave you with the first and funniest that I saw. For the fourth movie:
Harry Pot.
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Perhaps you passed these by:
It's not bad - still in threes? - 08 July 2007
Losses and opportunities - 07 July 2007
Personal Archaeology - 05 July 2007
- - 15 January 2007
Sleeping for a million years - 09 January 2007
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