This is so sad. I'm sitting, trying to pack up everything in this apartment of mine today. Ok, I'm really not working all that hard on it because I'm so frustrated, but still, that's not the point.
The point is how sad this is. Trying to pack up and move my life -- again.
Wasn't I just doing this last summer with our house? Now, I have to do this with my apartment to move into an even small apartment. Eeesh.
I've come to a couple conclusions today:
1) I'm not a good packer
2) I have less stuff than when I started
3) Even though I have less than I started with, I don't know where to put it all
4) Packing sucks when you're not a spatially conceptual person
5) Moving is like the bane of my existence (even more than Samantha Brown on "Great Hotels")
So, anyways...I finally gave up and I'm sitting here. I just ate some sushi. Cleaned the bathrooms. And swiffered half of the kitchen.
I feel rather spent actually considering I only got about five hours of sleep last night. Don't you just love stress-induced insomnia?