Jan. 24th, 2012

serinde: ("What fresh hell?")
I need to be out of my apartment in 2.2 months. That...is rather soon, when you put it down baldly that way. I had consciously put packing out of my mind, because that's one of those tasks in which early action does not redound to your benefit, mostly, and trebly so when Your Life In Boxes becomes a sliding-block puzzle on account of a total lack of storage; but the sweet spot of when to pack is at the pinnacle of a very, very narrow spike on the graph over time. And I think I am rapidly accelerating upslope.

So, pack what? Books (I can make do with the ebook reader), DVDs (I can make do with Netflix), stalled sewing projects (haw haw). The kitchen stuff I rarely use. Tchotchkes. ...that should keep me busy for awhile.

I'm also debating how best to acquire boxes. Last time, I caused U-Line to deposit an Imperial butt-ton of them on my doorstep, which was okay because there was a garage with no car in it to stage them in. I think that won't work here. But, it seems fiscally broken to buy them in batches-of-five from Staples or whatever. How do normal apartment dwellers deal with it?

I want to go to sleep, but I'm actually more awake now than I was at 5pm. I have also noticed the last week or so that I'm starting to get that electric-worms-under-skin feeling that accompanied last spring's extended freak-out. It would seem that I am stressed, and sublimating it. I would like that to stop now, but I don't know how to fix it.

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serinde

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