March 25. 2015
Sometimes you can let go of things and miss them, sometimes you can’t even remember why you needed to hold onto them for so long. And then there’s the shredder.
I guess I am waiting for somebody else to cart it downstairs – it’s kinda heavy, after all. And then there’s the issue of it not really being mine. It was a thing my daughter won years ago – and it served its little purpose, I guess. I know now it is better not to need a shredder than to have one.
I’m going to go through my art history notes tonight before I go to bed. In there is the abandoned hope of my ever finishing my Ph.D. in art history. But I’m cool with that now. I can’t imagine how my life could go better with a Ph.D. now. It would have been nice when I was in my 20s, but now? A nice achievement but not a step toward a better career.
I have the career so many people want. I am a writer. I write books.
The Backpack Press 