I’m finally unpacking my bags from Transformus.
It was over a week ago, which breaks even my extreme procrastination standards for belated readjustment from travel. But as I unpacked this morning, I started to understand why I let my bags sit undisturbed by my door for so many days. It’s been touched by Transformus, I realized as I unzipped the sides. As I sorted through the gifts I had received, my suitcase seemed like one of those magic bags from the Raymond Feist books. My suitcase is the same weight as it was when I left, but filled with all new items. It traveled through miles of dirt, tumbleweeds, and dust, but its color is still a lush green. Touched.
In the first pocket, I found a new necklace, an unope,ned box of earplugs, three pairs of new sunglasses, a red feather boa, Asprin, a leather Xena-ish top, and so many letters. So, so many letters.
It’s very uncool to say that an event “changed” you. I see my Washingtonian credibility slipping, my ability to impress strangers melting away.
But I do feel changed. Just a little… transformed.
It’s mostly because of you, best friend. And all the things you’ve done.