Packing:

Man, do I hate packing. Like, take how much you think I hate packing and multiply by like a million and you might be close (though that feels I bit like "me too times infinity!" "times infinity plus one" "times infinity squared" and so on). Anyways, guess what I'm doing now?

Yes, I'm trying to put everything I own into a relatively small collection of boxes and decide whether each box is going to Atlanta with my father (via Wisconsin, somehow) or staying in Chicago to be with me this summer. The books that I'm sending to Atlanta are looking at me balefully, but I need to accept that I'm not going to read Wittgenstein this summer and leave it at that. Cause I'm really not. And stop looking at me like that, Mr. Wittengenstein.

Then there's the stuff like the humidifier that I bought because my upstairs neighbor really likes blasting country music at 3 in the morning. I thought maybe the white noise would help. Will I need that in the new apartment? Hopefully not, especially since I'll have an air conditioner and two terrible box fans to drown out whatever odd music quirks my new neighbors have (hopefully not involving Lifeteen music at 9 on Sunday morning, but maybe she was just trying to get me to go to Mass). So that I'm giving away. I'm also giving away the speakers that I bought in the hopes of making my laptop happy only to discover that they didn't work terribly well and were sort of a pain. So those are going too. But what about the posters that have seen better days? Or the roughly 8 million blankets that I own? Do I need all of them?

I hate making decisions and these are hard ones. And, uggh, my parents should be in tonight and I have a job interview tomorrow morning and I have to clean (and I'm not even getting started on the stove, which is covered by an burnt smelling black layer since we haven't even wiped it down since Spring Break). And when is all this getting done exactly?