They say “breaking up is hard to do” but I think moving out is even harder.
I hate the process of moving. Especially because its been a very long time since I last moved. I’ve accumulated a lot of things over the years. You would think that because I’m an international student who has moved more than 6 times in the past 8 years I would be smarter about this. But no. I choose not to be smart. I want a nice (albeit messy) cosy room. So I fill my life with objects from people I have met and loved. I still have the laughing bag that I had bought with Mike because I remembered how it made him laugh. I still have my black-spotted cowsuit Pooh bear that Dr. C gave me because she couldn’t get over how excited I was to see real black-spotted white cows in the Pennsylvania county. I have pictures and art prints from GreenStarStudio, my first non-college friend. I have the 3004girls CD, my handpainted turtle ceramic I made with Mike, the Paris ceramic monument from Vegas….you get the picture.
And yet, in about a week from now, I have to make the decision on what I can or will keep, and which parts of my old life will simply have to go.
Have I mentioned that I hate moving?