Trucks are prohibited...but you are always welcome

Saturday, May 14, 2011

My entire life fits into three black trash bags.

Ok, so it's not literally three trash bags, but I am referring to the feeling you get when you pack up and move and you have an actual visual representation of everything you possess in the world. To me it looks like a large pile of lumpy trash bags, a few mirrors, a futon, a desk, and a large framed floor puzzle of "where the wild things are". Today is moving day, my friends... a day many dread, and also a day where you realize who your true friends are. They say that your true friends are the ones who show up on moving day, so we'll see. (Little do they know that this is a test, and no-shows get cut out of my life forever. See ya, suckers!!) Kidding about that, by the by. I spent last night at my new place, it was strange to wake up and feel a panic of not remembering where I am. But I am also excited for this adventure. I have equal parts of homebodiness and rolling stone in me, which is convenient because a part of me is placated by whichever turn my life takes. So here goes rolling stone, I am eager for the beginning of a new era while my homebody laments the passing of the last one. Do tell me, are you a homebody or a rolling stone?

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