Absum. Absunt. Wait… I’ll get there eventually….

I’m not actually here now, and a me of the past has transmitted these words into the future as a warning.

Well… “memo” is probably more correct that “warning,” as disregarding this whole thing will have almost no consequences whatever for the reader.  I’m off work this week, engaged in a life-or-death struggle with the heaps of inanimate objects tottering in all parts of my house as the outcome of the moving out of my parents mentioned now and again in the previous year’s entries and my own stupid attachments.  It’s not quite the sort of “creeping over mounds of old milk jugs” one sees in TV shows about hoarding… but it is close enough to it that I dare not suggest people come over to visit.

Yes, that is bad.  That’s why I’m devoting this week to the matter.  Hopefully, I’ll survive to post again.

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