Nesting has started. There is about a month to a baby. So. I'm packing up some non-essentials on our bookcases in our bedroom to make room for things like diapers and wipes and clothing. All important stuff.
But the first stuff I chose to put in boxes was my collection of lit mags I've been published in. Plus my MFA thesis (a manuscript of short stories) from SDSU.
I'm a pretty pragmatic person, stuff-wise. Sometimes to a fault. But though I do not need this stuff to be out on a daily basis, it feels a little too symbolic to pack it all into a box, seal it with tape and put it onto a top shelf in our garage.
I will get this stuff out again, right? Or at least use it, somehow, even though the physical realness of it is literally in cold storage?
To make the symbolism complete, I am packing my literary accomplishments in an old Pampers box. Sigh.
I am glad that I started work on a promising essay a few days ago, and that a good friend suggested a market for another essay recently. Otherwise, the cold storage would feel like an especially ominous omen.