MOVING

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This Wednesday, my thoughts do not feel "weighty" unless you count the "weighed down/miserable" type of weighty and not the "deep, thought provoking" weighty I normally mean.

Right now I am sitting in my local library using their internet to squeeze in this Wednesday blog entry before the library closes in ten minutes. All week I have been helping my cousin move out and the furnace broke I have been talking to another cousin in California over the phone trying to fix it vicariously through my mechanically ignorant self.

With my cousin moving out, there went our internet, and since I am moving out at the end of this month, I'm trying to utilize the nearby library and coffee shops' internet. So, please forgive the fact that these posts will come at odd hours of the day and will probably be scatter-brained for the next month.

To be honest, I am SO TIRED! Moving wears on me more than anything I can think of, mostly because it terrorized my childhood. Why my parents thought moving 20+ times could possibly "be better for our family", I may never know.

Am I bitter!? No! Ahem...

I don't really want to set fire to my belongings since I just got them out of storage after waiting two years, and I am looking forward to being in a place where I can actually unpack my boxes for the first time in over two years. The old terrors from my past experiences moving 23 times return, however, every time I pack a box or think of the fact that I actually don't even know WHERE in this city I am going to move yet!

Part of me still fears that this....

Okay, between the last partial sentence and this one, the library internet cut out 10 minutes before the library is supposed to close! I was two sentences away from finishing this. I grabbed my computer and walked with it still open and glowing, down the road to sit outside of Starbucks. It is cold, my dinner is cooking in the oven all this time and I am freaking out about my life.

This post seems really pointless right now. Anyway, to finish my last sentence, part of me still has the childhood fears of moving, feeling powerless, lost, angry, overwhelmed and sad, like I will never have a chance to make a home and live in it for as long as I want to stay.

Why I added a photo of two cute ducklings, to this dismal, rushed post, I will never know. Hopefully soon, I will have some semblance of stability in my life so I can focus my energy on the one thing I've wanted to do since first grade: WRITE!!!

Now to run back down the road to my house before my fingers freeze and my dinner burns to a crisp.

Happy Halloween, by the way!

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