It's about time.

Today I did something that took a lot of courage. And I'll bet you haven't been able to do it. And I know you need to, because almost everyone needs to. You think about it, and you're almost ready to take the plunge, and then you stop. Maybe I should wait a little longer, you think. Or this could turn out real bad. Then you think it's a memory problem. If only I could remember what these are, you tell yourself. Then you fail to, once again, do what you should, what I actually did today at about 4:30 pm. I threw away every key I've had for ages that I didn't know what it unlocked. Every last one of them. Just tossed them. About fifteen different keys. Impressive looking brass keys that certainly unlock doors or bolts. Tiny little silver keys that surely open up boxes and tins, maybe even miniature padlocks. Familiar-looking keys and some that are totally foreign to me. I didn't care. I just took them all, put them in a plastic bag, tossed them in the rubbish, and even took them out to the trash bin, which I then rolled directly to the sidewalk. I feel really good about this action, cleansed, relieved, unburdened by the constant awareness of those mysterious, possibly necessary, keys uselessly cluttering up kitchen drawers. The only thing I don't feel good about is that they don't take the trash until tomorrow.