the state of unknowing

I should be packing for my escape this weekend. But putting things in a bag in prep for 2 days on the train is daunting. On one hand I am thinking me, my ipod & my ticket. I'll borrow garb when I get there. But that is wrong because everybody in Fargo is tall. Gotta take my own garb. But--I want to travel light--kinda of a purposeful abandonment of clutter. Do I NEED all that crap? three books? a notebook? the camera? clean panties? my toofabrush--won't that all fit in my bookbag? What about my crochet project? Should I pack a lunch (yes. train food sucks) what about coffee??
How much do I want to haul through Union Station? Will I need a sweater--what if the train is cold because of air conditioning? I hate that.

Then... I'm like should I change my clothes on Monday? If so WHY? all of this unsettled anxiety directly relates to the house. To be more precise --the ongoing negotiations for the "big house", which not only has a garage and closets--but is twice the size of our current storage space free house. I have so much hope for organization--WHEN we get to the new house--IF we get to the new house...

I think it was David Sedaris who has a short story about "a place for your stuff"--gotta put the stuff somewhere. Too much stuff--I am channeling Steve Martin in "The Jerk"... "and this ashtray and this ping pong paddle"

I am gonna lose my mind at the rummage sale..all of it going bye bye. American's are greedy and my family has very strong pack rat genes. They get them from my grandfather who keeps semi trailers full of furniture & farm equipment all the way over to my mother in law who dates her tins of tuna--my kids are doomed. I have to break the cycle.

I admire the Japanese Zen monks who carry a rice bowl and wear their blanket like a cloak.