I'm becoming slowly paralysed by choice. Heck, I could just go to Norway next weekend! It's close, why not? But what about Belfast, or Riga, or Bruges? It's enough to make me hide my head under the bed until I'm back safely in Canada, far away from everything. (hashtag 'first world problems', am I right?)
I am boxing up all my books and DVDs into two piles, sell and keep. The sell pile is 5 times the size of the other. I am moving out, and I don't want anything weighing me down! What if I want to get a job on an ocean liner? Or bare knuckle boxing in Hong Kong? Will my apartment really need all three Ocean's Eleven moves? Will I really
need two versions of Sleepaway Camp? I suspect not. Things I am keeping: Old peanuts collections, which have the best names ever. "Don't hassle me with your sighs, Chuck." and "Duck! Here comes another day." and "Kiss her, you blockhead." Charles Schulz taught
people how to live.