(no subject)
So, it's 12:42 and I need to be all packed and ready to go by 10-ish tomorrow morning...
Am I done yet?
Nope. Not even close.
And I'm out of caffeine... well. This is an unfortunate state of affairs. Especially since I feel no motivation to do anything but sleep.
So, let's make a checklist.
...
Nevermind. I just looked around my room again. If I start listing what I still need to do, I will probably just
1. Retrieve pillow.
2. Scream into pillow.
3. Return pillow to proper spot.
4. Get distracted in process by bed.
5. Climb into aforementioned bed.
6. Prompty fall into a coma.
Therefore, I don't think I'll compose a list, just yet.
Before I give the wrong impression, I have made a lot of progress so far. Lots of stuff is packed, now. I just have a lot of junk.
I can probably blame my parents. Their hobbies seem to mostly involve buying things and putting them in various corners of the house.
Actually, I'm pretty sure their process was:
1. Go to garage sales.
2. Buy shit.
3. Check to see if we have room.
3a. Have room? Great! Put it there.
3b. No room? Well, darn. Okay, check classifieds for cheap realistate. In meantime, shuffle current contents of house until room is found.
4. Repeat process next weekend.
Therefore, I simply have bad genetics, at least in a "having room to walk in my living space" regard. (It doesn't help the the English department has a shelf on the third floor where people get rid of their books. "Free books," says the sign. It's not my fault I have classes on that floor...)
Okay. I'm slightly more motivated now. Time to do more packing.
Oh, one more thing. I really like this song.
Am I done yet?
Nope. Not even close.
And I'm out of caffeine... well. This is an unfortunate state of affairs. Especially since I feel no motivation to do anything but sleep.
So, let's make a checklist.
...
Nevermind. I just looked around my room again. If I start listing what I still need to do, I will probably just
1. Retrieve pillow.
2. Scream into pillow.
3. Return pillow to proper spot.
4. Get distracted in process by bed.
5. Climb into aforementioned bed.
6. Prompty fall into a coma.
Therefore, I don't think I'll compose a list, just yet.
Before I give the wrong impression, I have made a lot of progress so far. Lots of stuff is packed, now. I just have a lot of junk.
I can probably blame my parents. Their hobbies seem to mostly involve buying things and putting them in various corners of the house.
Actually, I'm pretty sure their process was:
1. Go to garage sales.
2. Buy shit.
3. Check to see if we have room.
3a. Have room? Great! Put it there.
3b. No room? Well, darn. Okay, check classifieds for cheap realistate. In meantime, shuffle current contents of house until room is found.
4. Repeat process next weekend.
Therefore, I simply have bad genetics, at least in a "having room to walk in my living space" regard. (It doesn't help the the English department has a shelf on the third floor where people get rid of their books. "Free books," says the sign. It's not my fault I have classes on that floor...)
Okay. I'm slightly more motivated now. Time to do more packing.
Oh, one more thing. I really like this song.