Grass is not greener

More purging .... the storage unit is empty (yay!) but my dining room is full. Full of totes and boxes and camping chairs. It's temporary, as temporary as I can make it. It must be sorted and made smaller, this pile of stuff that tells the story of my life. I have to keep the journals and the photos and the little sundress I got for Elena at the Gap when she was one .... the rest of the pile has to go. Some of it has been given away and the rest will be carted down the sidewalk to the trash compactor at building #13. For today however, I had to run away from home. Spring break is over and there are stories to read, research to be done, and essays to write. I couldn't do all of that in the shadow of those totes, because they call to me and drown out my thoughts. So I'm at Borders working hard (obviously) thinking that this is the peaceful environment I need. There's an older couple reading in the corner to my left. A good friend to my right, pretending to work as hard as I am. A woman knitting, another typing, and a young couple reading at the front. Ahhhh. Nice. And then, from the man on my left, sitting alone near the wall, mumbling. He's just finished a very loud interactive German lesson on his computer. Two women left because it was so irritating. When he put the computer away, I thought I was free. But now the talking to himself. The sitting and staring at people. The black unabomber bag. The homicidal mumbling. The obvious lack of personal hygiene. Perhaps I will go home. Those totes don't bother me so much....