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Today, I feel inclined to start off my writing with an apology. I had noted in my previous piece that the cleaning crew who were last at my house on Tuesday had absconded with a few of my personal hygiene products (including my baby powder, oil, and wash). While the wash is still missing, I did manage to find the oil and powder...sorry for jumping to conclusions so quickly! For what it's worth I just may have misplaced the wash as I am prone to episodes of short-term memory loss. I have gone through more than my fair share of mental gymnastics over the years trying to retrace my steps after forgetting where I put something. As I write this the day has already gotten off to an interesting start. The achievement center inherited a generous supply of paper towels, along with a cooking pan that was still sealed in its original box and an empty safe that had until very recently been holding ancient bottles of Coca-Cola and Snapple. (The aging process seems to work better for Cokes, based on my taste testing...fortunately, it does not seem as though I have contracted any botulism, though Lord knows what the doctors will find when I have a physical done in July.) When I come home from the office today, I will be returning to a legitimately empty house for the first time in a long while. Having been informed a few weeks ago that Honey would not be able to make the trip with me to my new residence, arrangements have been made for her to be returned to her original owner, who had gifted Honey to the family almost ten years ago as a 'little buddy' for our beloved Bella, following the loss of our oldest dog Brandy (a Hurricane Katrina rescue dog who was almost twenty years old and very sick when he had to be put down). Having lost my grandfather in 2017, Bella in 2018, and both of my parents back in October 2023, it had come down to just me and Honey. It was us against the world, trying to make the most of every day in a house that now truly felt like it was all ours. A dear friend, for whom I periodically volunteer at a Boca Raton-based nonprofit, was kind enough to transport Honey to be with her original owner again. To make sure Honey would not go home empty-handed, I bequeathed the last five remaining trays of wet Cesar dog food that were still available for Honey to eat, all of the unused biodegradable/disposable bowls she still had yet to eat from (there were much more than five left!), and the remainder of a pack of dog pads, along with various leashes, harnesses, and even a sweater for her to wear that had been provided as a complementary gift by the groomer who 'refurbished' Honey almost a month ago. (I'm sure she appreciated the sweater very much, as I've long had a tendency to keep the internal temperature in my house at 68 [and more recently 67] degrees. When you live in a state with the kind of humid, hazy heat that Florida gets, cool air is a godsend that we can't take for granted!) Tonight I will know what it feels like to be truly alone in my house, though I have got a feeling that the distinctive aroma of my dear friend will linger for quite a while. As we inch closer to the inevitable move, I found myself 'reclaiming' four storage bins that may have otherwise been repossessed by the contractor and his workers, and having to thoroughly wipe two of them down as they had evidently become casualties of the 'water wars' that for a long time had ensued every time it rained, and were repurposed to retain the rainfall that ran through leaks in the recently refurbished roof. Those four bins are now playing host to the lion's share of my clothes, including the ones adorning my body as I type this at 11:42am in the achievement center. My instincts had initially been led to have those bins hold eight computer towers, but it did not take me long to realize what a foolish decision that would have been. For centuries, humanity was able to get by without computers, and while it is more difficult today it's by no means impossible to do so. On the other hand, we have always needed clothing...a nudist clutching a computer tower like it was his baby is no pretty sight to see. Perhaps it will still be possible to get those towers into my new residence, but it is by no means a priority. Taking stock of just how much my family and I had accumulated over the years, I am forced to face the reality that we had all developed hoarding habits. I was able to turn it into a good thing by donating many unused (or barely used) items to people in need, but good will only gets you so far. Going from having an entire house to store things in to a single room has required me to downsize heavily. While a great deal of my possessions have already been disposed of or refashioned for a brand new purpose, many still remain, and I already know that I will not be able to bring them all with me. I feel a tinge of sadness when I reflect on some of the things I will have to give up, but then I realize I have already made it through the hardest losses I'll ever suffer in life and emerged stronger. My storage bins are filled with a combination of necessities and valuables, items that are vital ingredients in the recipe of my existence coexisting side by side with that which I know will come in handy later, even if it is not useful right now. Recognizing that there are still empty bins that can be filled, the next task awaiting me as I head into the weekend is to see what 'treats' I can pack into those last few bins. I have more than a week remaining to go through what is left in the house, and assuming I can resist the urge to spend untold hours playing Strider, Rastan, and Side Arms in MAME, I should be able to fulfill this task with days to spare. There is a finality in the air, a realization that what was once an idea will soon be reality. I keep rolling with the punches.