Junk

Nobody really wants to be a pack rat.

I think of it more as something you're born with that you can forcibly grow out of ... Rather like a child who throws temper tantrums until they are an embarrassed adult, ready to grow up.

You know, pack rat... Eyes divert casually so as not to notice the piles on the floor, the boxes in the closets, the dust on the piles of photos that never get looked at. Nostalgia takes on a whole new meaning as there are ticket stubs to every show your shoes have scuffed the rugs of... A pack rat is to some, a junk collector.

I'm determined to overcome what's left of my pack rat behaviour. No more need to keep everything purely for sentimental value. Maybe the odd thing or two; sometimes it's nice to make room for more memories. Spring is for cleaning, and I like a clean house.

I do the same thing with people, sometimes online; delete here, delete there. Do we talk? Do I know them? Do they need to be in touch with me? Do we bring value to each others' lives?

I like to try and eat healthy... Cut out the junk food; make some good homemade food, and savour it slowly.
It's pretty easy to cut out the junk food, a little harder to cut out the junk friends.