I was planning on doing a commemorative post for the 2-year anniversary of my move to Portland. I thought it was something meaningful, that I should be discussing all the ways in which I’ve changed (by which I hopefully mean grown) over the past 24 months.
But apparently it wasn’t meaningful enough for me to remember to write something on the actual day. This weekend it occurred to me that the exact date, January 23rd, had passed, like, 3 days ago.
I was regretful at first, but you know what? The reason I missed it is that I was too busy to think about it. I had to cram in a long work day, a paper to write, and lunch with Lisa at that awesome vegetarian buffet run by the cult (Pardon my blasphemy, Supreme Master.) This would seem to indicate that I’m too busy living my life to bother contemplating it, which is by far the most significant change I think I have made since my arrival here. Introspection’s awesome and everything, but my eyes are all scratched to hell from brushing up against my hairy navel for so long. So perhaps the anniversary is more meaningful when neglected. Just pretend I didn’t write anything at all on the subject.