An 
entry over at Corsac reminds me of the CD collection I used to have before I decided that it was time to chase my love. Most of them are mentioned over here (recovered from an old Excel file). During those days of preparation, I decided to sell most of the CDs to a colleague, but upon compiling the list, I left out the stuff I wanted to keep myself, or (where appropriate) marked them as ‘sold’. Additionally, some ‘popular alternative stuff’ (Smashing Pumpkins, Alanis Umph-Umph-Umph and so forth) I gave away for NOP to the neighbour upstairs. One of my sisters offered to store some (most) of the leftover CDs [Note to her: you promised to send them back so now it’s the time to make up with me]. But again, I remember taking precautions, by asking my other half to store the classical ones, collector items and Jazz CDs.
Not that I really care about those CDs, but naturally, they were part of history that spanned 7 to 8 years of my life. Crucial years. Sweet memories. Sweet nothings.