I’ve been thinkin’ about The Past lately. You know The Past, as in, what’s passed is Past, those who forget The Past are doomed to repeat it, Past participles, The recent Past, The distant Past, blast from The Past.
My distant past recently found me living in a cave. Not a literal cave, but a figurative one that did a damn good imitation of a real hole in the ground.
It wasn’t a very pleasant place, my little cave, but I only slept there. There was a bigger and even more dank cave where I worked.
While I can’t tell you how exactly I came to be living and working in a cave, at least not any any way that actually makes sense to the average person, I can tell you I’m quite happy to be finding my way out.
Daylight, however, is sometimes just a tad bright. It tends to put one or two things I’d rather not see quite so clearly in a very glaring and stark light.
But I’ve now committed myself to looking at those things, bright light or no. I’ve made it impossible to return to either cave. One has been stripped of the computer equipment I need to work (now in an actual office upstairs), and the other … well, let’s just say it’s now piled with the detritus of my former, cave-dwelling life.
And as soon as I get back home from Chicago, where it’s supposed to snow tomorrow, I’ll be clearing that stuff out of the cave and repurposing it as a kind of mud room. Not a muddy room, mind you. A mud room, where shoes go off and on.
As for Chicago, that’s where my distant Past is living now. But that’s a tale for another time.