Oh, hey, so guess what? I’m moving in 5 days. Guess how much of my apartment is packed? SEVEN BOXES. I can officially move most of my books and my DVD’s, as of right this second. So naturally, I’ll be spending the next few days doing the insane packing dance, which naturally involves loud music and trying to figure out which box my (fill in the blank) goes in. MOST OF MY STUFF IS (FILL IN THE BLANK). WHAT BOX DO I PUT IT IN?!

And the problem with packing, besides trying to neatly box up my ENTIRE LIFE, is that it’s just so boring. I’d MUCH rather be drinking some wine and watching an episode or two of TV, which isn’t very productive, or going to hang out at my feller’s to drink wine and watch some TV, which means I DEFINITELY won’t get anything done. At least, if I’m at my apartment, I can PRETEND like I MIGHT do some packing, if I could only get up off the couch. Which. Eh. *Effort*. Which is why I didn’t get any packing done last night. I put together the box though! And washed all my dishes! So now, tonight, I have to pack. A lot. And tomorrow too. And Thursday. Because Friday is Harry Potter night, and I just won’t have the time.

And I’m going to be REALLY REALLY GOOD and give LOTS of stuff to Goodwill. Which hopefully translates into more than just one trash bag. I’m notorious for keeping things for much longer than I should because I assign all sorts of emotional connections to random shit and next thing you know I’ve kept a pair of chopsticks since 2004. *Ahem*. Though in the chopsticks defense, back when I had long hair, I’d use them to put my hair up! Sometimes. Not very often. Maybe once a year. … I think that means the chopsticks can go. As can all the random ass books I have acquired and will never read and all the clothes I have and never wear (“but it’s so comfy! but I did [something that was at one time meaningful] in this shirt!” Have you worn it recently? No? It’s gone!). Imma be RUTHLESS. Gone, skirts that I never wear (probably because they don’t fit [and never really have])! Goodbye, size 10 jeans that fit me the one day I tried them on in the dressing room (and are too long anyways)! Awkwardly fitting shirt that I bought in Italy? I don’t need you to remember the good times! (Though my “Ciao Bella” shirt will probably go in my t-shirt quilt box.) I’m hoping to have SEVERELY pared down the contents of my closet and dresser, which includes my panty drawer. Nobody needs that many underroos they never wear, seriously. I could probably go a solid month and a half – two months without doing laundry and still have plenty of clean panties. It’s bad news bears up in there.

But at least I have more packed than my feller. That will comfort me in the long days ahead.