I'm throwing things away again. Someitmes it's easy and satisfying and sometimes hard, and today it's hard. The gold sweater I used to wear. It's too small, but I can't give it away because it has a tiny hole in it. I'd wear it a while longer if it fit, but I can't wear and I can't pass it on because no one wants anything imperfect. Such a wasteful world we live in now. In some ways, I prefer the old world where people used things up and hand-me-downs were greeted with appreciation. I also have a green sweater I made myself. I hung it in the closet. It doesn't fit me, but I can't bear to throw it away. I was imagining vacating the house soon, and Erin coming in and throwing away the sweater I can part with. At least, I wouldn't have to see it. But now, there's been another problem, another delay.
I have boxes spread around the house that I'm sorting. I had one going n the livingroom, but somehting came on NPR that I wanted to hear and the radio down there no longer works right, so I got another box out to sort in the bedroom while I lisened to that story. That's the box that had the gold sweater, waiting for me to lose the weight that's prolly killing me.
My feet are swollen. They haven't been, not in a long time. Why, I'm not sure. It's scary. Something I ate, prolly. Though today I ate nothing but healthy food to the best f my knowledge, and nothing extra.