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i've got this on repeat.

(kate, you need this too.)

i don't even think i wanted july as much as i want january.

 i am alive, but i haven't stopped moving in a week. every muscle is sore. when my apartment is done, i will be able to think and i will be able to write and i will be able to eat, but until it is done all i can do is clean and assemble and place and replace.

 some things i will try to sell:

dvds
cds (if i can part)
some books
my hand weights 
my weighted hoolahoop (this almost makes me sad)
that damn slr camera (vivitar, hardly used, no one wants it because it's not digital)

things i sort of want to try to sell but feel guilty about and/or attached to:

the weird wrought iron shelf thing that my sister gave me
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