Thursday, June 6, 2013

It's moving time again. Smell the cardboard.

The following email was recently sent to me by my best friend who I met in A-100 in 2000.  Although we have only lived in the same place once for the 6 months of A-100, we have lived parallel lives ever since.  Our paths cross when we force them to cross.  And we do force them to cross.  She is moving from Helsinki, Finland where she has lived for three years to Sydney, Australia.  Her email captures the essence of why we live our lives the way we do.  Sit back, read, and smell the cardboard.

OK, so this is what a sick individual I am: my house smells like cardboard, that slightly sour smell that also smells like tape, and I like it. I KNOW. This goes against everything. This is the anti-me. And yet, not. For after all, I am the person that looks at a globe curiously. When I buy something, one of my first thoughts is "will I need this at my next post?"
Please don't get me wrong. I'm panicked when I found my new dishes still in the cupboard today, I'm afraid something will be left behind and, no, I don't want to leave. But that little part of me, perhaps the strongest part of me is a little excited about the smell in my house. Because without that smell, I would have never met any of you. 
Day 1 of Pack Out, done. 
love to you and yours, 

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