I empty my pockets every day and place the items inside a ceramic jar, given to me by one I still think about. It is not exactly round at the opening, maybe 10 inches in diameter but it takes my life's contents without any trouble. It is a purple jar with a ring of running dark grey about its lip. The steely grey has dried in place as it ran down its side in the kiln. There are tiny imperfections in the ceramic where the air bubbles exploded as it heated up. I have had it for many years now. No chips or cracks as of yet. It is one of a few things that I have carried with me from place to place. It is full of change, receipts and God knows what else.
It is Monday, the day to restore order to the world. I have dusted and removed all the clutter from the top of my dresser. Socks that have made several attempts at freedom have been safely returned to their drawers. The matches have been picked up from my glass candle dish. I have replaced the candles that have started to melt to half an inch of the glass.
I have looked at the jar 5 times and I cannot bring myself to go through it.
I have fixed my bed. I have folded the laundry. I have sorted the rest for my trip to the laundry mat. I have hung all my coats and rearranged the shirts again. I have straightened all my shoes. Picked up all my books.
I will not touch the jar today.
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