So I was trying to figure out the reason behind the weird action of the drawer on the desk I inherited as part of this apartment — the same desk I’m intending on no longer using soon, because, as Lime put it, “It’s for middle schoolers…” — and I discovered a whole cache of weird detritus under the bottom drawer that had been mucking up the action of the slider. I can’t believe that in six months here (I was away for two months out of the last eight), I’ve never noticed this junk, but then, I had to slide the drawer out most of the way — it doesn’t come out all the way — and then look underneath. I thought something from my own stuff had fallen down in there, but instead, I found such odd things as:

• A very meticulous wardrobe list for one full week of classes.
• A bunch of photos from what looks like the States and Korea.
• A punched-out old passport belonging to a former teacher.
• A couple of printed sheets from some porno site.
• Old syllabi and some boring old grade sheets.

While I’ve long felt a little strange about living in rooms where other people before me lived for only a couple of years at a time, it’s never felt weirder than it does now. Most of this detritus is mundane, but some of it is downright weird.

Now I can’t wait to get rid of this desk and get my own proper writing desk in here.