I spent most of the first couple of days of New Year cleaning up two years' worth of junk from our room. This meant a complete overhaul of my desk, tidying up my closet, and buying a new faux wood dresser to replace the footstool I had been using for the past few years as my bedside table. Now all that's left is a few hundred books to arrange, but otherwise everything's in tiptop shape. My nose also decided it has had enough and spent the first two days of 2006 dripping snot and icky liquids. Apparently, I am allergic to massive amounts of dust.
So now, all of my college readings are stored in plastic boxes, neatly stacked and labeled. Softbound books are tucked away in shelves and drawers, and it seems that I have a map of London on my desk, taped alongside Middle-earth. I also have a desk, it seems, that used to be buried underneath a mound of old books and readings and miscellany. I also have a bulletin board now, neatly mounted on my wall. Everything seems to be in order. I threw away everything that I didn't need anymore, including a couple of teddy bears named Ermengarde and Squishy, and a little dog whose name I can't even remember anymore.
The last time I had a complete overhaul was two years ago. I skipped last year because of certain emotional problems that were compounded and resolved mid-2005. Now it seems perfectly apt that I get to go back to being obsessive-compulsive again when it comes to my things - I was known as the resident neat freak before, and it seems that everything is coming back full circle. My theme song for that particular task is, aptly, Sugarfree's "Kwarto."
And because I was cleaning up, I found a number of things that I had forgotten, including a round blue box with a heart carved in the middle, containing what remained of old memories of an old love, now quietly tucked away at the bottom of my closet, where all abandoned things are. N asked me if I still had feelings for him, and I said no, and now, it was true. I want to buy a new box now, for new memories, new keepsakes.
I also found a bundle of papers from my CW 100 class three years ago, and old poems from myself, and some written by N, with comments in a familiar hand. It's funny how you find pieces of yourself in the most unlikely places. I've kept old papers, drafts of my thesis (but I can't find the bound one; I think I have to ask for a copy back from my mom) - so many things that made up an important chapter of my life. So that is what four years of college meant.
Now I get to look forward again: there are things to plan, and things to look forward to. I want to start my 2006 right, and that means making space for the good things to come.