There's five big bags there, I swear.

In a strange turn of events today, I slept until 10am. (Well, technically 9am - stupid daylight savings time.) I had vague plans to start "doing something" toward the impending move...

But then I got sucked into a Quarterlife marathon on Bravo, which was another strange turn of events. I'd heard the buzz about this show and tried to watch it a few weeks ago at its regular time, and I got bored so instantaneously even my yawn was surprised. My interest today was either related to procrastination, or PMS (which makes these types of shows more appealing to me... me + PMS + Dawson's Creek = sheer heaven), or my adult onset ADD (which makes watching shows week by week intolerable, but hour by hour totally enrapturing - I'm pretty sure I will not have cable in Portland because I've become so accustomed to the Netflix Tv-on-DVD concept).

ANYWAY. I don't recommend the show unless any of the above apply.

The marathon ended at 2pm so I ventured out into the beautiful day to get a fish taco and the newspaper, then headed back home to start "doing something" toward the impending move. Since I don't know exactly when I'm going, or exactly where I'm going, packing is damn near impossible - what if I need that wool skirt/book I have yet to crack open/fourth (of four existing) color ink cartridge between now and "then"? What if my new bedroom closet doesn't have room for my wire Ikea shelf o'exercise clothes/six pairs of shoes I have worn once/nineteen thousand empty hangers?

So instead I am working on whittling down. Today I attacked the closet and dressers using the "if I haven't looked at it in a year, it's gone... OK, now if I haven't worn it in a year, it's gone" methodology of getting rid of things. I ended up with a respectable pile of space saved in the moving van (especially when you include the lamp and chair, which are not coming with me - unless I can't offload a cat-hair-laden red corduroy chair between now and then):


This is just the start. In the coming week I will work on the kitchen. Surely someone at work still drinks Celestial Seasonings tea, or needs a giant ladle or some mason jars, or would love a box of Cheerios purchased by my Dad in December 2005.