It is innumerably hard to imagine assessing all that I have, in such a short time, dismantle each element from it’s moorings, pack them in such impersonal cardboard boxes, and hope beyond hope that nothing will befall any of “them”. I cannot seem to conceptualize that everything will be ok. It saddens me that I am so attached to these things. I already worry that I will not have enough time to read all of my books and make enough art. Goddess knows I yearn for that time without feeling guilty. I have no one to blame but myself.