Ruthless - that's the word for the day folks. I've spent much of this weekend sorting and packing and I keep having to tell myself to be ruthless... if I haven't worn it/used it/read it in years do I need it? Be ruthless, Patty, be ruthless.

But being ruthless honestly sucks.

I'm better than I used to be about saving every little thing. But, anyone who knows me will tell you that I'm a sappy, sentimental sort of boi. Very odd going through my stuff. I know they're my things but sometimes finding a card or scrap I've hung onto is feels a little like an archeological dig in which I'm making observations about a long lost civilization. Who was the person who thought this thing or another had meaning? I can hardly remember her anymore.

Which is why I guess that being ruthless sucks... there's this fear that if I don't have some of the "stuff," I'll forget who I was. Maybe if I had children, ya know, was movin' the ol' genetic material forward through time, I'd feel different. Then again, maybe it would be worse, because not only would I be trying hanging on to who I was, I'd probably be hanging on to who they were.
Good thing my biological clock appears to be digital since I don't seem to hear the ticking other females do.

*sigh* I suppose what I need to do instead of bitching and moaning and being anxious is to be grateful I have "stuff" at all and that I have memories worth hanging on to for the most part.

I think part of the anxiety I'm feeling at the moment isn't really about the packing. I think what I'm most stressed out about is the fact that I've given notice at work, told all my clients I'm leaving, given the landlord notice and as of this moment, still do not have the work permit in hand. What if there's a problem? The new employer already said if I don't have the permit by June 14th, they're rescinding the offer. I'll be jobless and homeless. Can you say, "Fuck?"

My immigration guy cc'ed me in on an email to the new employer indicating he would soon start coaching me on my "presentation at the border" but he has yet to set something up. "Presentation at the border?" Is that like Jesus being presented at the temple? Or maybe I should have some sort of power point ready to roll, ya know, have my sales pitch as to why some complete stranger upon whom my entire future rests should let me in.

I just hope that when I make my "presentation," that the border guard is my kind of "ruthless" ... the kind of ruthlessness that makes room for emotion and meaning, for context and possibility even when that kind of "ruthless" sometimes makes things clear as mud.