I hate being in transition

I love change, I really do. I love starting fresh and that little kick in the pants feeling right before you make a change happen. I just hate being in the middle of a change. Whenever I moved, I had to wait until the last minute to pack, because I knew that as soon as I started I'd need to do it all that day. I hated living with boxes everywhere, half in my life, half in limbo. I'd have to unpack and hang things within a day or two at my new house, and then put away all the evidence that suggested I hadn't already been living at that new address for quite some time. I've moved ten times in the last ten years, sometimes once a year, and other years I'd move two or three times. I guess what prompted all this is the fact that I decided to start cleaning out my crap this evening. I started by straightening up my room, then I made my bed and commenced sifting through my underwear drawer. That's how one starts getting dressed in the morning, so I figured it was as good of a place as any to start cleaning out my life. I threw out a lot. I figured little lacy fancy pants panties probably won't get very far in the hand wash situation I will have going on in my new abode. Kind of sad.

I moved on to the closet and other drawers eventually, stopping only to bring a bag of tee-shirts to one of my favorite families who is not my actual family but probably should be counted as such. We chatted for a while and then I made my way home to bag everything up and begin sorting my bathroom stuff. I threw out headbands I never wear, bottles of nail polish that are old and sticky, bottles of perfume that I'm not going to wear before I leave, half used acne wash that I stopped using (much to the chagrin of my forehead), and suntan lotion that won't be used before February. It feels amazing to go through and clean things out, but at the same time I can get carried away and throw out too much and be left with four things to wear. Oops. My mom came in my room more frequently tonight than she has in a long time, making small talk, noticing how big the pile was getting. She commented that it was a little bit sad and asked if it had hit me yet, I think as a way of saying that it had finally hit her.

I have two bags of trash, three bags to donate to goodwill, one for a friend to sift through to see if she wants anything, a small pile of nicer clothes to try to sell to a consignment store, and several things set aside for specific people. Somehow my room doesn't look any different. Maybe because everything I cleaned out was hidden in a dresser and the closet anyway? I'd like to start bringing boxes home from my storage unit and going through them with the same gusto that I had tonight. I'd like to say that I can get my things whittled down to an amount that will fit in my closet here at my mom's house. My little brother is taking my furniture (because it's really family furniture that was my turn to use) and I'm sure I can go through everything and toss a bunch. What is honestly worrying me is all my classroom stuff. That shit multiplies every time I go check on it, like it has the Gemino curse on it or something (HP reference, anyone?). I can't wait to have all this done with so I can concentrate on packing. I don't think I'll feel the rush of excitement until then.

I'm super excited about tomorrow though, I'm going to pick out a backpack :) I know I should try them all before buying one, so my friend offered to take a road trip to a bigger city in order to do so. I'll most likely pick out the exact one I want and then order it online via one of my fabulous PC discounts. Five weeks as of Wednesday.