Wall street at Eton, near my old apartment. I was there solving a mystery.

When I was moving out I came across a box of essays and course material… my handwriting was on the box from an old move, but the stuff inside wasn’t mine, it was from university courses I hadn’t taken. I assumed the box belonged to Mishka, who had moved out of the apartment a year previously. But when we finally got a chance to connect, Mishka said she’d never seen it before. Then we noticed a large manila envelope with a sticker label on it, and the name was that of the woman who’d lived next door to us, along with the department at VGH where she worked. We couldn’t imagine how her stuff had gotten into my box but it wasn’t completely impossible; the three of us used to talk in the hallway pretty regularly, and our underground parking stalls were right beside each other. Last night I finally got a chance to bring our old neighbour the box… and found that it wasn’t hers either. That envelope, when we pulled it out further, was an inter-departmental message folder that had gone to her first, then to ten other people within the Providence Health system. Years ago. The last address was in the Kenny building: the psych department at UBC. Inside the envelope was reading material from some animal cognition course. Then I pulled out a different stack of papers and saw that they were from a different course, one that I had taken. What the…???? It was the course where I’d met Mirona back in 2004. Mirona the owner of the box, who must have picked up the envelope during one of her positions as a psych researcher and used it to put her course readings in. Who now lives on another continent. She and I split up in 2006, and I guess I’ve been carrying her box around ever since.

Good people, I know it’s a rotten job, but I really suggest you all dig out the crap in your closets and get rid of it. Today!

And Mirona, if you’re out there reading… what the #&@% should I do with this box????