i would rather move

hey, it's tiff.

from the wall this week, an entry i would like printed on a t-shirt:

"i have been staring at the trash i need to take out for three full days. i would rather move than take it out at this point, it's so much."

i laughed out loud. and then i sat with why it's funny, because the math is deranged and every one of us has done it. option one: relocate your entire life. boxes, a truck, a deposit, mail forwarding. option two: forty seconds and one bag. and the brain, without hesitation: "the first one."

here's what's actually in that math. by day three, it isn't trash anymore. it's the trash plus every hour it sat there plus the person you apparently are for letting it sit. the bag weighs four pounds. the verdict weighs four hundred. and moving to a new city is the only option where the verdict doesn't come with you. it was never about the trash.

which is how you can run a business, raise kids, pass your boards, and still lose a three-day standoff with one hefty bag. capacity was never the problem. verdicts are heavy, and brains like ours attach them to the smallest things and then have to carry the total.

no fix this week. just this: the bag doesn't know about the verdict. it's just a bag, four pounds, forty seconds, whenever it happens. and if it takes another day, it takes another day. you were never going to actually rent the truck.

somewhere out there, a stranger on the wall is in the same standoff. you're both going to win eventually.

🖤 tiff