Adventures in Packing

Moving is hard.

You start off with the best intentions. "Everything is going to be packed properly! The kitchen stuff will all be together, the bathroom stuff, the bedroom stuff, the clothes, and the books will all be packed separately from each other," you say. Then you try to pack. First, you have a tote (or box, but in my case it's a tote) with all "memory box" type stuff. Then you have another tote with only books. But there's a little bit of extra room in the top and you don't want your books sliding around all over the place.

So you put a random dish towel on top to shore things up a little.

It all goes downhill from there. You start putting dinosaur tater tot toys in water pitchers and filling pasta pots with cosmetics, putting art supplies in the tote with the hangers, a single hanger in the tote with all the towels and breakable kitchen stuff. The purses and shoes are together, but they have a blanket in with them. At first, it still makes sense. Most everything is still organized. Then you start finding things around the house that you meant to pack but forgot about in your frenzy, and by the time you get to the last tote, this is what you have left to pack:

• A wedding planning binder (from 2 years ago that your best friend gave you after her wedding so you could plan yours that never materialized)
• A giant CD book
• A snake pen
• A wall night light
• A Christmas garland
• A plastic brandy glass the size of your head
• A pretty basket you keep bathroom stuff in
• Two hot pink file trays
• An accordian file
• Two photo albums
• A yearbook
• A catalog
• A half-done painting
• Various other artwork on paper
• A metal recipe box
• An enormous bathrobe
• A throw pillow inside piece for a pillow you never made

And of course, it doesn't all fit. You stuff things inside of each other, rearrange, take stuff out and put it back. You seriously consider attempting to concuss yourself with the brandy glass. Your back hurts and you just want this to be over with already. Finally, you give up, ditch the CD book, the pen, the metal box, the bathrobe, a photo album, and the wedding planning book, shove the garland in the brandy glass, and suddenly the tote closes. Then you dump all the extra into a laundry basket and put it on top of the giant stack of totes so you don't have to look at it anymore and run away.

This is why moving is hard.

Oh, Look! It's The Bottom!

As previously demonstrated, I suck at an actual posting schedule.  Or even posting anything semi-regularly.

Everything is changing.  S and J asked me to leave, so I'm trying to figure out where I'm going to live.  I have until February 1st, which is when I have to move out.  So far, I have no idea.  I don't know where I'm going to end up.  I have a couple of friends who are willing to keep me from ending up on the streets, but no real hope of finding something on my own.

I'm currently working on fixing my resume so it doesn't suck because I'm trying to apply for a job that requires a resume and a cover letter.  The cover letter is done, but I'm getting stuck on the resume.

I was going to look into going to school for a pharmacy technician certificate, but FAFSA doesn't pay for non-credit classes, so I am rethinking what I want to do and if I can do this.  I'm thinking about getting an associate's in business administration so I can try to find something I can do for a living while I look into going to college for real, or maybe the business admin degree will be enough.  I don't know.

Since I never unpacked all of my stuff when I moved in here, I don't have a ton of stuff to pack - most of what I'm waiting to pack right now is towels that are in Girl Child's room that S has promised to locate (I think she's doing that in a few minutes, actually), and what little kitchen stuff I came with.  I think.  I keep remembering stuff that I forgot I owned.  Like my purple ice cube trays.  I have no idea what happened to those.

I found out recently that my job with a certain clothing store was a seasonal position.  So I no longer have that job or the income.  I get my last check tomorrow, and I'll be checking then to see what is going on with this situation.

So, to summarize, I am pretty sure I have no job, and in 3 weeks, I will no longer be living here.  I don't know where I'll be.  Yep, looks like that bottom is rushing up to meet me.

So.  I've put a donation button for my PayPal account on this blog.  Totally optional.  I don't require anybody to actually give me money unless they want to.  But it's there.  Because I am at that point.  I hate that it's come to this.

In fact, I hate basically everything right now.