Tomorrow I’m moving away from the Bay Area, the only post-college home I’ve known. It’s been five years of good ice cream, bad pizza, adorable friends, and monotonously beautiful weather. I’m already nostalgic for Oakland, even as I’m excited for the British adventures that lie ahead (and overwhelmed by the boxes of books that gaze pleadingly up at me, hoping I’ll relocate them).
And what better outlet for nostalgia then graph jokes?
First, the chilling inner life of the non-nostalgic person:
Fourth, the Buddhist, free of attachments to worldly things:
To assess your own pack-rat/Buddhist tendencies, feel free to print this post, stick it in a desk drawer, and see how much you want to throw it out after 1, 6, and 12 months.