Moving

So moving is fun! Kidding, obviously moving is terrible and no one should ever do it.  You’re a grown man; you should be living with your mother! Anyway, have you ever put something away someplace and said to yourself “I’m going to put this right here so I don’t forget it”, but then later all you remember about the thing or the place you decided to put it is having that mental conversation? (I don’t understand the question, and I wont respond to it) Moving is basically like that, but with ALLLL of the things you’ve ever owned and all of the things your kids ever owned, all your spouses stuff and your dogs stuff and random stuff that you aren’t even sure how it got there or why you even have it. I mean really though, why do we have so much stuff. $68 conditioner? Small price to pay for self esteem Michael.  I digress, not that it matters now because it’s all gone now Dad, and it was my decision... all packed away someplace, some mysterious place that you specifically placed it so you would remember where it was and your brain ate that information and pooped it out in into the sewer of your mind never to be seen or heard from again. Its almost as if he’d found a way to simulate amnesia… That’s why you always leave a note. You want a quote from Scrubs, I can quote Scrubs all day. Friends? Kimmy Schmidt? The Office? My mind is filled to the brim with useless information, but where on earth I put every last pair of underwear… well my old brain just went on and unilaterally decided that that particular piece of information wasn’t especially useful for my day-to-day existence.  Underwear? Say goodbye to these! After all, there’s a lot of good stuff in here that we need to save room for, and who’s to say how brains even work. I hear the jury’s still out on science. Steve Holt!