I decided to throw away the table I made. While struggling to load it in my car, I realized how ridiculous it was to keep this coffin of nostalgia from a past I'm not very fond of. I put a lot of time and energy into the table, but sometimes effort doesn't need a result. I grabbed a couple objects that I knew my mother would be sad if I permanently discarded, and trashed the rest. It was nice too; I didn't feel any sadness or disappointment in finally getting rid of these pesky things. All I can hope is that the person who has to load it into the garbage truck, gets a chance to question it, and it's many personal complexities, first.