The paper.

A big box has been living in my tiny closet for the last 6 months . . . well, several boxes. This particular box however, stares at me from the floor of my closet proudly taunting me with its disheveled contents. Daring me conquer it. Seriously, I attempted once to sort through it and gave up. What's in this box, you ask?

During the emotional disaster often referred to as moving, I tried my best to sort through papers, etc. so that I wouldn't have to pack a bunch of . . . crap. Well, despite a valiant effort, this box got the best of me and went into storage as-is. Then in went on a trailer and traveled 1,300 miles as-is because I lacked the emotional fortitude to sort through it in the snow in February. For the past 6 months, I have still not possessed the strength necessary to go through this box. Until yesterday.

Yesterday, the unthinkable happened. The internet went kaput. No job searching. No school-planning. No bill paying. No distractions. Now, had I been living in a house not dominated by humans of the 6-foot plus variety, I might have been able to fix it. But, as it went, I had to wait for the very tall man to come home to reach the router he had placed on the top of the TV cabinet. Eight hours unplugged. Somehow 8 hours unplugged = emotional fortitude for a big scary box.

Said box (which sadly is only about half done) did, in fact, hold a bunch of crap. Missing from the above photo is heap of "no shredding necessary" recyclables and down-right garbage. Said box also held some treasures . . . and more to be found, I hope.

There's a story that goes around in my family about the time I was accused of plagiarism. Behold, THE PAPER that started it all. I was ridiculously happy to find it. I have found other papers in the past that I have re-read and wondered "why in the he-- did I turn this piece of shiz in?" and "what was the professor thinking to give me a good grade on this drivel?" I am happy to say that I can't believe I wrote this paper. It's actually . . . good. I'm shocked. Nearly 8 years later, I'm still happy with it.

So, if you ever wonder about the great depression in Britain, let me know. Meanwhile, I have a box to defeat.