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A Word from Your 1997 Holiday Classic All-Star
Now that I have your attention.
We’ve all got boxes in the back of the closet, right?
At first, they’re full of stuff we’ll take care of in a few weeks. But then the solstice hits and it’s Easter and next thing you know, that first box is under another box and neither has been opened for more than a year.
Add in a few more boxes and a few more years and you’re at my level of closeted boxiness.
What I like about boxes in the back of the closet is that they aren’t in the way. They don’t make messes and I can faithfully ignore them for years.
But then on October 6th of this year, two things happened. I turned 40 and I caught Covid.
Yes, I was vaccinated and yes, so was my husband who gave it to me.
And who knows why, but catching Covid and turning 40 was the 1–2 punch I needed to dig out those boxes and start sorting through them.
Did I find a program from a play I went to in high school?
Did I find a floppy disk from college labeled ‘Writing Seminar’?
Did I find a framed photo of me as a little girl hugging a woman I have no memory of?
Of course, yes to all of the above.
