A shredder is cheaper than therapy.

I own a shredder. I also own a laminating machine,
a pair of metal calipers and a halogen table lamp that weighs as much as a
table. But this story is about the

I’ve been shredding my past
since the start of the week. My life is now confetti.

I must say- the more I shred, the
lighter I feel. I barely glanced at 1995 as it joined strips of 1996. I have a
shirt that says “Go to hell – and say hello to my ex-boyfriends.” I didn’t shred
that. Most everything else that had to do with exes and semi-exes went through
shredder teeth. And bad sketches, and Tarot notes, and calculations of jewelry
component prices, and lists of things to do that I hope were done, and
currently-irrelevant magazine articles. Karen Kingston says once you’ve
integrated things like that into your aura, they’ve already become part of you,
so you don’t need to keep the physical reminders around. By lessening your
tethers to the past, you free space for the future. I’ve filled two large
garbage bags already. If all goes well I’ll be able to shred more tonight while
watching Kingdom Hospital.

Antubis, the anteater on Kingdom
Hospital, would make a very good shredder. “You do me a solid, I’ll do you a solid.”