D-day (or Moving Day) is growing ever closer (four days - whittt???) and my room is looking no better.
I basically haven't carried on the packing since Sunday. Monday I succumbed to an invitation for drinks with Dawn. Tuesday I went over to my good friend Marie's for dinner and by the time I got home all I really had time to do was shower and fall into bed. Tonight it made sense after my pole fitness class to go for a couple of drinks with my sister and one of our classmates, followed by quesadillas at Taco Mazama, followed by me sitting on my bed eating peanut butter cups and drinking cava.
Which is where I am now. Trying to ignore the mess around me. Struggling not to think about the fact that my room is awash with boxes to the point where I struggle to make it to the door of my bedroom. Wondering how the ACTUAL FUCK I am going to be able to move on Sunday!
But, like everything else, I'll put it off until another day. I'll finish up at four tomorrow, head home and FORCE myself to rip through this packing.
Cava certainly eases the pain. And makes it easier to pretend this is not happening.
Oh well. In a week's time I will hopefully be feeling much better about everything.... and be moved.