Strbellysneetch’s Weblog

Not to be confused with moving day. Oh dread of dreads. No, that abhored event happens tomorrow.

Packing day. The day I realize with a sickening horror that my home was not actually as clean as I had previously duped myself into thinking (evidenced by the odd discoloration that becomes visible when I take my refridgerator magnet collection down…and the dust rings that make themselves known when I move odd articles that apparently have not been moved in months). Also the day I wonder what I could possibly live without to avoid having to box it up and carry it into my next life. The day I pledge to avoid buying so much crap during the next chapter of residence. Finally, the day I will spend at least 10 whole hours kicking myself in the head for not saving enough money to rent movers (everytime I move, while in a sweat drenched, back-aching haze, I promise myself that I will do this next time. This has yet to happen even once in the 9 times i have moved during the past 8 years).

A few things rear their unattractive head on this day:
+I am the worst of the worst when it comes to procrastinating. And you would have exhibits A & B of this fact if my computer saved image files correctly.
+Sadly, even an entire pot of coffee is not enough to motivate me into an acceptable amount of action in my life.
+If laziness were a crime I would be locked away for life with no opportunity for parole with the rest of the unproductive souls in this world.

You might ask why blogging if I’m laden with so many things to do. See the first item on my list of what becomes evident for the answer to that one…

not to be confused with moving day. oh dread of dreads. no, that abhored event happens tomorrow.

packing day. the day i realize with a sickening horror that my home was not actually as clean as i had previously duped myself into thinking (evidenced by the odd discoloration that becomes visible when i take my refridgerator magnet collection down…and the dust rings that make themselves known when i move odd articles that apparently have not been moved in months). also the day i wonder what i could possibly live without to avoid having to box it up and carry it into my next life. the day i pledge to avoid buying so much crap during the next chapter of residence. finally, the day i will spend at least 10 whole hours kicking myself in the head for not saving enough money to rent movers (everytime i move, while in a sweat drenched, back-aching haze, i promise myself that i will do this next time. this has yet to happen even once in the 9 times i have moved during the past 8 years).

a few things rear their unattractive head on this day:
+i am the worst of the worst when it comes to procrastinating. and you would have exhibits A & B of this fact if my computer saved image files correctly.
+sadly, even an entire pot of coffee is not enough to motivate me into an acceptable amount of action in my life.
+if laziness were a crime i would be locked away for life with no opportunity for parole with the rest of the unproductive souls in this world.

you might ask why blogging if i’m laden with so many things to do. see the first item on my list of what becomes evident for the answer to that one…

Labels: Daily

The yard itself caused my heart to twitter a bit. Complete with pond (yes, there are real fish in it), cozy deck, quaint little bench swing, REAL grass, and a great big privacy fench to keep the world out. I say REAL grass, because the closest I’ve come to my own grass in the past few years are the patches of moss in the back of my apt. right now.

*Pauline*, who I’m taking the place over from, was there this evening to show me around. she turned out to be a wee, small english woman…completely adorable. I walked in the place & I really think my jaw might have dropped (hopefully she didn’t see it & think me a freak…dropping jaws over a basement). In my apartment drenched perception, it was enormous; bigger than any space I’VE ever had. Walk-in closet…nifty brick walls (did i just say nifty?). Full kitchen (since the ad claimed "mother-in-law" apt., in a sick way I was sort of expecting a hot plate or something on the counter)…gigantic storage space.

After *Pauline* had finished showing me around I exclaimed how much I loved it; she looked almost relieved. She said she was positive that people must have thought I was just "mad" (in that english way) for not having even seen a place that I was already paying for. I suppose ‘mad’ is a good way to capture the wide-eyed stare coupled with a well-meaning nod that most people have given me in the last few weeks after learning of my plan. Hah! I didn’t make a bad decision…I made a perfect one for the first time in a looong time. I mean…the walk-in-closet just explains it all.

Oh…and in case you like cutesy little swing benches like i do, here’s my new one…