Reality II

Despite all the stress of packing, my brother and I have found a way to make it even stressier*. I don't understand why the omnipotent Mum doesn't like it packing. Personally, I enjoy putting all my worldly possessions into small, cardboard boxes. Perhaps we shouldn't open them when we arrive at our new apartment**.

Back to my original topic sentence which I failed to address. It is still beyond our power to make packing (for Mum) more stressful***. But, being masters of imagination, we sure have blown it up into a feat of herculean strength in our mi

nds.

The box into which we have to fit our entire house:

Yeah. That scrawny little thing. And only one- not two. Dad's reasoning is, whatever doesn't fit into the first box had better be work the 1,000 something dollars the second box will cost. Is my favorite shirt worth that? Noo...

But I've slipped into sarcasm again. On a more positive, uplifting note, we won't have to spring clean. Furniture is getting rid of, clothes are being donated, and we're slimming down quite a bit.

Strangely enough, it's actually relaxing. Slimming down, that is. Thinking about the box is not. Our family held a mini freak-out session this morning****, and to settle it, we marked out a square with masking tape on the carpet. Dad is being awfully optimistic, but I'm going through my closet again and see what else I can donate.

-'Shup your face and start packing.

*Let's hear it for made up words! By the way, if anyone knows how to say, what I'm trying to say, while still using the word 'stress', and not cheating by saying 'more stressed' or being smart alek, feel free to yell it to the world. I'll be sure to use it in my next post.

**By the way, I wasn't being sarcastic- really!

***No cheating, like that, see? It has to be a derivative (is that the right word?) of 'stress'.

****Actually, we hold one every time we drive past the U-Box place. '" Is that it?" "It can't be!" "No, I'm sure they have two different sizes" "Don't worry about it, I think it can fit"....

Reality I

We will be moving away quite soon*. Through a blur of 'miss you's, 'keep in touch's, and 'what the H!@#? You can't do this to me!'s**, I hear the faint pop of reality. Compared to my first move, this one is considerably less painful. Maybe because I know*** what is in that strange cloud looming ahead****, or maybe because I'm growing up and ready for a change. Either way, there is a definite feeling of peace and resignation, and a bit of excitement too*****.

Promises to all my friends to write every week have been issued******, but most likely, I'll write about once a month or whenever huge, drastic, news hits. Like now. So, because I get envious whenever I see Mom, Dad, or Ian tinkering with their blogs, look for updates here, though I'll try to send them out as well. If you don't hear from me for some time, then DO shoot me an email. Several emails. In a offended, broken-hearted tone. Just to make sure I get back to you quickly. Most likely, I've either lost your email, lost my password, or have been drowned in the swamp of Too-Much-Homework.

I'm rambling. Even when I title something Reality I, it becomes a long, wordy ramble. Maybe that's how my mind works. Like I start out something and then move on to something else without ever finishing anything******. But that isn't that bad after all, right?

Before I ramble my way into all realms chocolate,

This is Quiet Girl******* signing off.

-Shh.....

*Reality strikes again!

**Actually, I haven't had that reaction yet. Not sure if I should be relieved, saddened, upset, offended, confused, perplexed...

***As much as anyone can know. I mean, like, I'm going into 'security' (like how a prison is secure. Yeah. Just kidding) not out of it.

**** Or above my head. I dunno, lately my life has been on a roller-coaster of horror-monal induced emotions. The current theme is 'Death, Doom, and Obscurity'.

*****Or I'm in denial.

******That, or I'm mentally biting my fingernails and trying to figure out how to break the news. Not a great time to be doing this, since we will be leaving very soon. Very, very soon.

*******You can tell where I've been by the notorious trail of half finished projects.

*******Hah! Quiet Girl= Oxymoron. Quiet Girl (aka me) = really bad joke.