Sunday, May 29, 2005

quitting, I mean, "taking a break"

For the past couple hours, I have been rearranging some stuff in my apartment in the interest of FINALLY getting everything organized. It's been a month since I moved in, so I figured it's time.

Every now and then I get the urge to rearrange. I get bored with the way things are so I decide to change it up. And EVERY TIME, I get bored/tired/ADD in the middle of it and have to force myself to finish. I start out all inspired and then, at the worst possible moment, like when I have the recliner in two separate pieces and one of them is stuck in the doorway, I want to quit.
Right now, I've got all the furniture where I want it, I just have to finish the part I hate. There are piles of my crap (not LITERALLY my crap because . . . ew) all over the place and I have to find somewhere to put it all. And I don't wanna. I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm not going to be able to find a place for all of it, which means I'll have to throw things away and I hate doing that. Because, you know, I might need all those old birthday cards and what if I have a dry skin emergency and this final squirt of lotion is ALL I HAVE LEFT.

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