I am standing outside my apartment. Three people are inside, packing up everything. Later some other people will evaluate everything to decide whether is it fine, fixable,  or fucked. 

It is humbling. A life summed up in boxes and tagged large items, to be inspected by some disinterested third party. Is this who I am? A PS4, some boardgames, and an exercise bike? At some points in my life it seems like I answered yes. No, not “answered”. That implies a decision. More like passively accepted society telling me who I was.

People seem surprised with how calm I am about the fire. And I guess I am. But the loss of things isn’t too terrible. Sure, a few precious things are gone. But now I have the opportunity to be mindful.of what I bring back into my life. It is easier to say “No, thank you” than “Goodbye”.