today was one of those days where i woke up in a panic.
there are a few reasons for this.
1. it was eleven thirty. i value my sleep.
2. i couldn't remember the name of the second track on the album "torches" by foster the people.
3. my mother had promised to bake me a cake for my 'going away pizza dinner' and she had baked no such cake. she was also working all day today, and tonight is my 'going away pizza dinner'.
4. i had five hours to bake that cake, do all my laundry, and pack everything i owned for college.
i currently have a little less than two hours in that five hour clock and i'm honestly feeling rather good.
i think i look like a watermelon. i am wearing green shorts and a pink tank top. my hair is sweaty. i'm out of breath. but there is finally room on my chair for me to sit on it and room on my desk for me to put my laptop back in its usual happy position on the keyboard pullout tray (from back when i had a desktop, remember desktops?).
i got up in a super rush. i showered super fast. i smeared toothpaste on my nose to try out a new trend. it hasn't worked so far, and i can still smell mint on my face. i ate a cheese bagel like lightning. i gobbled down an entire pint of blueberries. i have a blueberry addiction and i am terrified of getting cancer. it's rather genetic in my family.
i baked that funfetti cake like it was nobody's business while simultaneously washing my comforter. this is a big deal, because my washer is one of the scariests things in my house (and there are some scary things in the serial killer room in our basement). so many knobs and buttons and multicolored facets! but i was able to wash my comforter without my father. he does the laundry and the dishes.
my mother mows the lawn.
my mother, queen of all things baking, had told me a super secret on how to make cakes moist like wedding cakes, and she had told me that she was going to share this super secret with me while we baked the funfetti cake. there was one problem with this: she was at school until four, it was twelve thirty, and i had to leave to go drastically chop off my hair at four.
i am still debating this whole drastic chop off my hair bit. i have another three hours (approximately) to decide.
so i baked my cake alone while listening to torches, because that is all i have been listening to for the past week. there is another problem with this: it's such a good album and so dancey that i find myself dancing alone in my room and not doing what i'm supposed to do.
last year i left a week later than this to start my freshman year of college. i had a bunch of stuff. i had spent all my target gift card graduation money. i had cool stuff. i spent an entire week packing it into a tremendous pile. i felt prepared. everything was perfect.
this year is very different from last year. i go to school in michigan. i live in indiana. this automatically makes me eligible for free underground storange under my dorm (and a thousand dollar scholarship), so the day before i moved back home in april, my brother, my boyfriend and i moved a bunch of my stuff to that free underground storage. my brother has my fridge in his room at the frat house. i have a decent amount of stuff currently hiding in a lightless room. tomorrow when i unpack, i will be wary of spiders.
thus i thought that i didn't have that much stuff. no sir, it would mostly be clothes, and how long would that take to pack? just shove them in a bunch of trashbags and my suitcase. make sure i have all my textbooks. remember to pack my DVD player and my rug. don't forget the ipod and the ihome, pack the laptop up when you finally sign out of facebook, tumblr, and twitter for the evening. roll up your comforter. this should not take long.
today is the day i realized how much CLOTHING i own. and this is after i gave two trash bags to goodwill earlier this week.
i have a full suitcase and five trashbags full of clothes. i am still missing an entire dresser drawer. my dresser,which matches my old bed, is from the 1800's (we're so hardcore) and one of the knobs broke off of the bottom drawer. so my all of my competitive swimming gear and my shorts and pajama bottoms are currently stuck until my father can work his magic. there in lies another trashbag full of stuff.
i have at least fifty pairs of shoes in a gigantic box (and more in a bag). i have a HUGE box of books (harry potter is heavy, my friends), a schoolbag full of textbooks, a canvas bag full of my complete seasons of chuck, two seasons of criminal minds, and all of my disney movies. i have a box with my trashcan, DVD player, rug, my piggy bank full of laundry quarters, my swim team picture collage, my framed pictures, my electronic cords, my little desk knickknacks, and my infinite boxes of stride gum. i have another comforter because i have an extra bed to make. i have sheets and towels and toiletry items. i have a gigantic floor lamp equipped with energy friendly lightbulbs because my dorm is the new green dorm. i have a new pod chair because the one i'm sitting on is well... old. and tan. and gross. and ripping.
there's more. i have a bass guitar. and a cello.
i really don't have time to be blogging about all the things i have to pack. i really don't. but i am exhausted, sweaty, and feel the need to alert you about how i am crunched for time packing things.
after i chop off my hair and eat pizza, we will load the crimson avenger, that beautiful fourteen year old minivan, with all of my stuff. i will then drop by to say goodbye to my grandparents and my cousin/sister (our mothers are sisters. we just wish we were too). i will try to remember my cell phone.
halfway to alma i will forget something and have to buy it at walmart.
i have been waiting for tomorrow for a long, long time. since i got back to indiana, really. my heart belongs at my college and there it will remain until i graduate and move on into the real world.
but i'm sure as hell going to put more in storage next year. or not buy as much crap that i think i need because i'm an RA. i don't have time to keep writing this blog. i have trashbags to move downstairs and hair to think about.
to cut or not to cut?