It’s about seven o’clock in the morning and I haven’t slept since yesterday. In fact, I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in weeks. I wish I knew exactly why. I suppose I have a lot of reasons, but not one definite reason.

I’ve been packing. I’ve been selling off my furniture. I’ve been getting rid of all of my mountains of papers, binders, notes, printouts, etc. That’s been occupying most of my time over the last three weeks. I have so much it’s hard to imagine what I ever thought I was going to do with all of it by saving it, keeping it, stacking it, sorting it, and putting it in boxes. I have so much, at least if you count the papers. In terms of resale value, my things probably really only have value to me. However, a person doesn’t need to lug around so much. It’s almost as if I was trying to prove that I existed or something.

I write too much, not on blogs anymore, but I definitely write too much, and maybe even read too much too. Wow! I never thought I’d ever be saying that, but it’s true. It seems true anyway. Over the past four years, I’ve collected hundreds and hundreds of books and I can’t really imagine that I would ever have the time to re-read all of them again. I can’t just throw them away though. Something seems wrong about that.

So lately, I haven’t been able to sleep. I’m at a transitional phase in my life and maybe I’m thinking about it too much. It’s time to get packing or in my case, to keep packing.

Dear God, it’s just so much. I need to pack light. In the end, I suppose, I can’t take any of it with me. That’s what they say anyway.