last night i had a nightmare.
people classify nightmares differently. my boyfriend, for example, has really intense nightmares about dark forests and demons and beasts with fangs and dead girls standing at the end of his bed.
i would call those night terrors because there's no way in hell i'd be able to deal with that.
my nightmares are pretty much all anxiety related. i'm at school and my locker won't open and i don't have any of my homework done. i'm at a swim meet and i don't have my swim suit and i have to swim the race naked.
those kind of nightmares.
i had one of those last night. i don't remember that much of it, but the basic premise of it was this: it was time for me to move and i hadn't packed a single thing yet.
when i got up this morning and looked at my perfectly stuffed bedroom, i realised that i move in two weeks.
i don't know, man, but that's like, REALLY HELLA SOON.
i'm really nervous about this because my parents aren't going to be here to help me move. they're going to be in florida celebrating jesus with a lot of other older people. i'm even more nervous because i don't actually know what day i'm moving in, i just know that it's sometime during that week that's two weeks from now.
i have a pretty happy image in my mind. like, hannah, her boyfriend, and adam and i are slowly, methodically, and happily moving stuff up the staircase and into our brand new shiny white apartment. once everything gets brought inside, we assemble the furniture and the TV, which we sync to our netflix accounts. once the kitchen stuff is unpacked, we'll pour ourselves some wine, order a pizza, and celebrate in our victory with a bad netflix movie like zombeavers.
REALLY THO, THAT WAS THE BEST WORST MOVIE I'VE EVER SEEN AND I SHOULD BLOG ABOUT IT TOMORROW. SOMEONE REMIND ME.
in reality, this is how moving is probably going to go.
1. i will run out of gas from making van trips even though i only live a mile and a half away.
2. the couch will not come on time.
3. hamlet will shit on the carpet from moving anxiety. (that's my lizard, by the way.)
4. someone will break a bone moving stuff. probably me.
5. my boyfriend will be crushed by my desk.
6. many of our things will break.
7. i will revert to using language that would make my mother keel over.
8. we'll be too tired to go grocery shopping. or get toilet paper.
9. it'll take ten whole days and a swarm of locusts will appear.
10. did i say swarm of locusts? yeah, that'll probably happen.
all of this has been swirling around in my brain. on top of moving, i'm still working two jobs that week, hannah is working, adam will be sleeping on my floor, and it's just going to be a train wreck.
so i got up early this morning after my nightmare and decided to start parking.
where to begin? where to even start?
clothes. winter clothes.
i learned a good tip from moving my shit to and from michigan for college: put your clothes in trashbags. that way you can just stuff them into hard to fill areas between boxes.
i also read a moving tip in a very valuable article called "how to grow the fuck up" that you should leave your clothes on the hangers so that way, you just can hang them up right away and you're not moving a gigantic box of hangers around.
i discovered, after going through my winter clothes, that i have three trashbags full of sweaters. THREE. ENTIRE KITCHEN GARBAGE BAGS. OF JUST SWEATERS.
and i want more. i always want more.
i haven't packed my dresses yet. i know i have at least twenty dresses. and i almost bought an eighty dollar one today.
then i set to work on my dresser once my closet was mostly done, not counting all the weird shit that i have on the high shelf, like my clown costume and a box of letters that i wrote to dead people in high school.
in my bottom dresser drawer, i found about two thousand dollars' worth of swim suits.
most of them were from high school and they were super old and thin and i was like, why the hell do i even have these? so i threw them away. then i found a bunch of weirder stuff, like three pairs of bike shorts and a bike jersey (i am not a cyclist), a pair of wrap parachute pants from the dominican republic, a canvas bag from amsterdam, and four two hundred dollar competition swim suits.
competition suits get weird. like, the one that i wore in 2008 when i was seventeen went down to my ankles. then they banned those. so then i got a few that went down to my knees. the one that i used in college in 2011 is illegal now too because i guess it has some weird flotation thing in it that's supposed to make you drop time?
well, i wore it at the MIAA conference meet, and let me tell you, i didn't drop any time.
i was planning on doing more packing besides my closet full of sweaters and my dresser drawers, but then i went dress shopping and fell in love with an expensive dress, decided i was too poor to buy it, and pined over it for three hours. i was going to tackle my desk, which is HUGE, by the way. it's big enough for hamlet's 75 gallon tank and my TV and my laptop. it also has a lot of drawers and is generally thick and heavy and large.
i don't even think i want to know what's in those drawers. that'll be a blog post for another time: the official packing with emily post.
you know how in my moving tips blog (read that here) i said that i'll just have adam carry my entire desk up three flights of stairs for me and how i hope he doesn't die and become an adam pancake?
... it turns out that my desk doesn't actually come apart.
GUESS WHO'S CARRYING IT UPSTAIRS!
we'll say a collective prayer that he doesn't turn into an adam pancake. i like him to be 3D. it's better for cuddling.
even just going through my closet and my dresser, i realised exactly how much stuff i have. most of the adult stuff that i've been getting, like my bar stools and my table and my bathroom stuff, is in the basement. then i have my entire bedroom, which is a big bedroom, full of stuff. and then i have everything that i moved back from college in my attic that i need to go through.
i have so. much. junk.
do you ever get overwhelmed by the sheer amount of things you own? like, i have three shelves on my wall full of knickknacks that i've acquired over the years. i have my shot glass collection, a bunch of cool stuff that my grandparents have gotten me from various countries, and a few trophies. most of the stuff is really cool because it's come from around the world, like my russian dolls and my wooden clogs from the netherlands.
but like, do i actually want to move these things? do i want to pack them up?
not really. i kind of just want to leave them in my room at home for a while. i'm not moving out of fort wayne for another year and a half to two years, so do i really need to take them with me? my mom is converting my bedroom into a guest room, so whatever guests we have can look vaguely at my shelves and say, "ah. things."
my two bookshelves are coming with me. one is small and holds my DVD and VHS tape collection. it also has my awesome owl lamp, my alarm clock, and my earring holder. it's effectively a bedside table. my BIG bookshelf, that's gonna be fun to move, and it probably won't fit in my new bedroom because i'm downsizing, so that might just go in the living room. we'll see how that works out.
i just have so much shit that i don't know what to do with it. so i need to buck up and throw things away that i'm pretty sure i don't need even if i think i want them.
i get attached to things. it's a problem. i gotta let go.
it'll be a process.
a process that'll probably come fruition come july, so if you're lucky, you'll get a july post about it. hooray!
i'm moving. it's real. it's happening. i can do it.
here's a picture of of a cute dog running to calm us both down.