The Last Month in This Place :: April 8th, 2002 ::
So, today is April 8th, which means that in less than a month, I will be moved out of this place. It’s been so long since the last time I moved out of anywhere, I forget how it can make you feel cut adrift and disoriented. Though it’s probably different for everyone, for me it is small realizations, like “this is the last time I have to pay the gas bill,” or “soon, my phone number will belong to someone else” that really make the whole thing real. It all reminds me that soon (by which I mean within the next couple of days) I will have to pack my books into bags, get boxes, and start making decisions about what is coming with me for our summer at the barn and what will stay here. I’m having trouble imagining it, but soon I will get all the stuff that has been scattered throughout these five rooms be semi-neatly boxed away and labeled either “stay” or “go.” Partially I am nervous, but I continue to be excited for what is next.
On a topic secondary to my imminent transition, I should note that I am an unrelenting procrastinator. I am very familiar with the level of stress I am dealing with here. Right now, I have enough things to worry about that my stomach clenches when the full list of tasks comes clear to me, but I’m not panic-stricken enough to actually do any of the work without question. I hope today or tomorrow I will be able to force myself into doing enough work so I don’t have to deal with that all-too-familiar rushed move at the end of the month.
