Don’t ask me where my head is these days because I probably couldn’t tell you. Getting ready to move, I’m up to my eyeballs in boxes. Taking pictures off walls seems sad to me. I get distracted packing up books—want to start looking through them. I’ve got a lot of good memories in those books.
For a few seconds this morning while drinking my coffee, I thought about trying to count up the number of times I’ve moved. What a silly waste of time that would be. I’m 58-years-old. I’ve done my share of moving.
As I’m boxing up my stuff, I’ve got Diane Keaton’s voice in my head singing that song from the Woody Allen movie, “Annie Hall.” She’s singing “Seems Like Old Times.”While listening to it in my head, that head of mine drifts to thoughts of old girlfriends, girls that I wish had been a girlfriend or my ex-wife. It’s odd.
I usually stop my moving activities around seven. While eating dinner, I’ve been watching “Annie Hall” on my computer and when Diane sings that song in the movie, I’ll usually watch it a couple times.
I’m really not in a sad place at all. I’m looking forward to the move. Maybe with looking forward, it’s all right to look back. Maybe that’s where my head is.