Date: 2007-01-07
To: Piles
Miles today: 0.0

I just looked around my apartment and started laughing. I am in my bedroom at my desk in my chair. Around me on the floor are piles of fliers, booklets and miscellaneous wedding paraphernalia ¢ all neatly scattered according to vendor type. DJs, flowers, cakes, invitations, limos, engravers, photographers, honeymoon planners. All things that need to be accomplished soon. Beyond these piles, in the corner of my room, is a stack of Campmor and REI boxes with random AT essentials hiding inside. I have no idea what¢s in there, really. There¢s an empty Western Mountaineering sack strewn across the top of the pile to try and hide the mess beneath. On my bedroom door hangs the actual sleeping bag. On the other side is a bridesmaid dress I wore at some point three years ago. On the other side of my bed is the Tyvek footprint for my tent that still has leaves in it from my last hike. Somewhere in this wretched apartment are stormproof matches and my sanity.My nightstand might say it all. What an embarrassment. One large picture frame filled with several photos of my summer in Europe. Three frames in addition to that ¢ Eric and I, Jenn Dams and I, and Calen. A gigantic bottle of vitamins. The socks that lost their lifelong mates in the dryer (that even I haven¢t given up hope on yet). A stuffed mouse. A winter hat. A binder full of AT information. A wedding planner. A candle. A pamphlet about Governor Jennifer Granholm¢s economic plan for the State of Michigan. A little box of wishes. A quarter. Did I mention the full surface area of said nightstand? Two feet by three feet. Outside of this room, my living room spills the secret. I am leaving soon! Well, so say the GIGANTIC pile of cardboard boxes of every size and shape imaginable. There¢s long and slender from my trekking poles, shoe-sized from my free trial pair that I am supposed to write a review about any day now, and giant cubes from my bulk orders on Campmor.com. I¢ll use them soon, I tell myself each time I vacuum and hit the mountain of cardboard (actually, I¢m not sure when that was). Who knows what creatures are living in that pile.Back at my desk, my hands can barely move as I type because of the piles of what can only be described as ¢the really important things I¢m trying not to forget about so I pile them by my computer because I¢ll be sure to see them there¢. They are intruding my thoughts even as I type. A coaster. A heart-shaped coin holder. A Faygo hat. Packaging tape. Gear receipts. A ¢Made in Michigan¢ sticker. My Secret Service pin. A spa gift certificate. My portfolio for work. A water bottle. A manual for my new jump drive. A lamp that hasn¢t worked since the day I put it there. A pass for the election night party I attended. Did I mention that these are all the ¢really important things¢? Remind me why. I¢ve often wondered¢¦ oh ¢ wait ¢ I forgot to mention my kitchen! The counter? The poor counter. Once used to test new and exciting recipes. Now a graveyard for my receipts, bill stubs and the mail that I get from great causes that ask me for my money and I save in hopes that I will be able to afford them all one day soon. I think my new lease is in the junk drawer ¢ next to the batteries and the chocolates and on top of my check book and the phone book I¢ve never used. Anyway ¢ I¢ve often wondered why thru-hikers-in-planning feel a mad dash before they begin. How come they have left so many details to the very end is what I¢ve wondered. Well, life just has a way of sneaking up on you. Who knew that I would be planning the two biggest events (yet) of my life at the same time? In the same TWO MONTH period!So, for the time being, I have a to-do list that is longer than I ever imagined it would be when I leave to hike the Appalachian Trail in less than 75 days. I still need a first-aid kit. Footwear. A general idea of where I should send mail drops. A general idea of what should be in these imaginary mail drops. Someone to transcribe my journal for me. Health insurance. Some plan for getting nutrition on the trail.   A clue about how to use my watch/compass/thermometer. Oh ¢ and I have a sneaking suspicion my tent won¢t be seam-sealed before I leave. So in the days before a hiker leaves for the Appalachian Trail, this is what happens. Piles are made. Junk is treasured as the ¢most important¢ stuff. Things will get thrown away that have no business being lost.   Leases are barely legal ¢ surely something in my junk drawer would not stand up in court. Stress turns to laughter because there¢s nothing else useful to do with it. It¢s true, I¢m not keeping up with day-to-day life very well right now. If you have a birthday in the next two months, I wish you well here and now. If you provide me heat or electricity, I wish you the same ¢ hope you get my check in the mail. Here¢s to the Appalachian Trail. Here¢s to having only two things to accomplish in any given day ¢ right foot forward, left foot forward.