Boxes

I'm a bit of a hoarder.

And if you think I'm bad, my wife is at least twice as worse.

That being said - without going into too much detail (that's for another day and another post) - I've been making efforts to whittle down my amassed storage of belongings; much of which consists of my lifetime of paperwork, artwork/doodles, books, magazines, 'collectibles', and other various clutter. I have had things in boxes for many a year, and have never really gone through them completely due to space restrictions and living arrangements.

Ever since I joined the Navy - almost directly out of high school - a majority of my belongings and 'gatherings' have been packed away, stored, and eventually ported around with me throughout my years. I have moved more times than I would have liked, never really having a place of my own; that is until just over 5 years ago, when we (my wife and I) purchased our first home. Ever since then we have been putting off the monumental task of sorting through our combined possessions.

Areas within our home resemble something like a storage facility. Or a quickly thrown together rummage sale. It looks we are either packing to move, or have just moved in and haven't completely finish unpacking yet - either way, we're living in a constant state of flux. We have too many things - be they in boxes, bags, or just loose - stacked, piled, and propped up to really be very comfortable to live in or feel settled.

As mentioned above, we have far too long had a bit of the hoarder mentality.
It needs to change.

Transitions. Inside Transitions.

Spoiler: Prepare yourself for another one of my world famous rambling rants. Seriously, I really spend a lot of time explaining my thought process, while building up to a flimsily constructed and poorly formulated point. Usually I completely lose focus from my original intent during the course of the post. Welcome along for the ride!

Ok, now that the pleasantries are out of the way, onward with the topic.

On the radio this morning, there was a funny little discussion going on.

Ok, well, it wasn't, "Drop down, pee your pants" funny. I'm mentioning it because, unlike most mornings, I actually tuned my brain in long enough to follow - though briefly - the current minutia of a subject they were babbling about. It was more that what they were bantering about was mildly amusing, and made the little voice in my head chuckle, than anything shockingly political or world changing revealing.

Thinking back now, I do believe that for a moment my head may have shaken almost undetectably side-to-side a few times with a barely noticeable smirk that no other drivers would likely have detected - unless they were watching me with stalker-like eagle eyes. Which is a real fear my wife holds over my head where ever we go; assuming suspicious, judging eyes follow our every move, just waiting for one of us [i.e. ME] to do something embarrassing or criminal.

As usual, I digress. Surprise!