Trading Places
The countdown is on! three days until I move in with my boyfriend. A sentence I never thought I would write, in fact I think I hear the faint sound of mocking laughter flowing through my soon to be gone computer room. Bernie plus a permanent one. like Kraft Macaroni and cheese once I was the single shiny packet, 99cents, now Im the deluxe box. If I wasnt feeling 100% stressed out about the whole moving and packing and unpacking process I might be more than a little bit scared.
Im a little bit sad about leaving my neighbourhood, I have lived here all my life and every little place has memories and I guess its my comfort zone so moving to the other side of the river where I have no friends (actually I barely have friends north of the river either- Come home Mark!), no family (my mum refuses to drive on the freeway so wont be visiting me anytime soon) and no car has me nervous. I keep having awful dreams where Andy and I break up and I cant find anyone to help me move my stuff out of the unit and I have to call angry removal men who damage my precious dvds.
My mum is worried I will lose my roots, my white trash heritage when I move, if only she could have seen me last night while watching the Gilmore Girls and having a rant, especially when Andy had to pull me aside and say something like, "dear do you know you just said cunt three times in the same sentence). Mum would have been so proud.
There is no point to this post except to kill time before I have to sort through and pack all my clothes away. HEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLP.
I will update with something that has an actual point a bit later.