Moving On

My friend was going to come visit us this weekend, but something came up and she isn't able to. Not mean- ing to be rude in any way, I am happy that she can't make it (sorry Rach!) Our apartment is completely overrun by boxes. Actually, now that I think about it, so is my car. I am very grateful for these boxes because I have been getting them from work and I don't know what we'd be doing otherwise. But the number of them has been increasing as of late and it's gotten to the point where I'm almost be embarassed to have people over. A simple, "We're moving" explanation would probably do it, but still. Now I find myself anxiously awaiting the day that I can start packing without anyone thinking I'm completely crazy because I'm packing way too early. Although the girls at work have greatly benefited from my cleaning out the apartment sprees, they look at me with this "you-haven't-started-packing-yet-have-you?" look. No--I haven't. But I have printed out the "Kitchen, Bathroom, Bedroom, Living Room" labels. And I've bought all the cleaning supplies to address the rather lengthy Move-Out list given to us by our Leasing Office. And I've gone through every room throwing away or giving away what we don't want to bring with us. So, yes, I'm basically ready to move. Now.