(no subject)
Oh my God. 11 days till Italy. I am perpetually 2 centimeters away from completely flipping out/having a nervous breakdown. I've been spending at least two hours every day pacing around the downstairs, or upstairs, stressing out and talking to myself (it helps that there's no one home, and by "helps" I mean "makes it much worse"). I feel like this is how small rodents live all the time--completely spastic and running around frenetically while not actually accomplishing anything. I never ever want to be a gerbil.
I've been excited for this move since last September, so my happy excitement has been exhausted, leaving only stress and a feeling of "what the FUCK am I doing?"
I've been excited for this move since last September, so my happy excitement has been exhausted, leaving only stress and a feeling of "what the FUCK am I doing?"