The baggage piles up, the clutter is shoved off to one side. Every time you get a glimpse of what you have stored up you either find a way to ignore it as if to say, “if I don’t look at it, it’s not really there,” or you beat yourself up over the mess and plan to address it but never do. In the end nothing changes, it is what it is – it’s all in the past, until next time.