So writing to some friends yesterday, I commented about how I only have 14 days left before I leave on the Great American Road Trip, having packed up and stored/brought all my worldly belongings. I mentioned how little I've accomplished thus far to that end, and noted that I had scheduled 'panicing' for four days hence. Well, now 'hence' is just one day old, and I'm already ahead of schedule.

With the panicing, that is.

It occurs to me that I don't know how to pack everything for storage. I take a fair amount of pride in my ability to judge what I will, won't, and might need over the next year, packing light and moving fast, but the actual task of packing things up is more difficult; making decisions on what each item's fate will be (trash/gift/storage/bring) at the same time as not having a system for handling that decision. Great. I'm going to give this thing to that person. It's still in my hand. They're not here. Where do I put it to imbue it with this cognitive decision?

I know it sounds stupid, but it's like I'm playing a tile puzzle without a missing piece. Basically, what I need is a staging area. First and foremost, those firneds of mine who are taking furniture for a year: I should clear that furniture off (pack the books, tapes, papers, and other acounterments) and get the big things out of my house ASAP. Deal with the fact that I won't have a 36" TV to watch for the next few weeks. Heck, I won't have it for the next twelve months anyhow. Pull out the 13" TV I never got around to selling on eBay and put it on a cardboard box. Repeat ad infinitum: Take down the G4 desktop machine and compute from the powerbook.

This is a theme: by making my windows to virtual realms smaller (from desktop to powerbook, big screen TV to mini) I establish my mentality in the physical realm. Where right now I'm sitting at an immense desk, typing on a large screen, I should be taking more notice of the room itself, realizing that of the cinco mil cosas surrounding me, I need to touch every one and inform it (and myself) of its fate.

These things need to be done, and now. If it won't actually take me 13 days, then yay: I'll have time to play at the end, instead of dropping a broom one saturday morning, picking up keys, and racing out the door, a rushed farewell unworthy of me, my apartment, my city, and my life.

Okay, enough of that: It's time to get packin'.