Watts (chipotle) wrote,
Watts
chipotle

Living in a material world

The dermatologist called on Friday to say that one of the removed moles was "dysplastic," and that it wasn't completely removed. This means that (1) there's a very small chance it could have developed into a skin cancer (not necessarily melanoma, since there are several less dangerous types of skin cancer), and (2) they'll want me back in the office for more minor surgery--this time requiring stitches.

In the grander scheme of things I'm relieved. In the short term it'll be inconvenient at best. It'll also mean I'll need to get COBRA extended one more month--which again mom will help out with. Yay! But it doesn't look like the initial benefits continuation check that I sent has been cashed yet--and that's kind of alarming, since I show it having been mailed out on the 3rd.

In the packing game, I'm getting down to the point where soon all that's left will be keeper knick-knacks and the kitchen stuff. I'm keeping a few copies of Zoomorphica #1 and Mythagoras Vol 2. #1 for posterity's sake but letting most of them go. I also have other big things to throw away: crappy pots and pans, a badly-behaving inkjet printer. Cat dishes left over from when I had my cat, Mika, years ago. At first I couldn't bear to throw them away--he disappeared, and there was always a chance he'd return, right?--and at some point after that, they just faded into background scenery. (For those curious, yes, Mika was named after the character in my story A Gift of Fire, a Gift of Blood, but I didn't name him that.) I'm accumulating a list of other packing materials I'll need to buy--right now a couple boxes to hold matted or framed artwork I'm keeping, and protective packing paper for the aforementioned knick-knacks.

And there's so much stuff that I keep looking at and thinking, "I don't want to take that with me, but I don't want to throw it out yet, do I? I might use it in the next two weeks!" Maybe. Realistically, though, I see more heavy-duty trash bags in my future. Friday the 27th will be a frantic sweep collecting old candles, tea, spices, canned goods, floppy disks, batteries of dubious age and unceremoniously chucking them all.

I'm preparing to not only be a housemate again, but to not be the "lead housemate," the guy who has most or all of the furnishings in the common areas. I'm having trouble putting the feelings on this into words--I think because the feelings are so conflicted. More than half of the furniture I've collected, mostly over the last six years, is going to go away in two weeks. Some of it's even hand-me-down furniture I grew up with. (One big piece I'm not getting rid of is my grandmother's bakers' table, even though I have no idea what I'll be able to do with it in the foreseeable future.) And right now I'm not sure where the stuff I'm keeping would end up if it follows me out to Tugrik's--I don't know what furnishings he already has in his guest room, and what would happen if things work out and I become housemate rather than houseguest.

At the same time there's something freeing about going through all this, and even about the notion that--assuming plans are shaping up the way they appear to be--I'll be going through this in microcosm again in a very short time, deciding what, out of all the things that have followed me to Kim's place, will come with me to California. A 10' moving truck has 368 cubic feet of storage, which I don't expect to completely occupy. My RSX has about 18 cubic feet of luggage space. Beyond clothes, what subset of things do I occupy that with? What things will I truly not want to be without?
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