Been packing all morning, packing since school ended Thursday at 11 a.m. My house is full of boxes--including TEN already packed with books, and I've cleared just one bookcase completely bare. Plus parts of a couple others. Maybe two are completely bare--a shelf here, a shelf there.
Started writing about all of this here and it might've turned into something like the first draft of a real essay. Which makes me still more hopeful about getting back to Portland and writing more again, for reals. Of course, I'm also procrastinating actually putting more books in boxes. Plus it's summer. But yeah--hopeful.
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