three stories tall

This past week and a half has been a very challenging one. I was busy with the transition of apartments, hosting my little sister in town, and adjusting to a new roomie. Not only that, but I went through an emotional epiphany. Epiphany or breakdown. You decide.

The great thing about moving is that it's always a fresh, clean start. You're forced to throw out things either because you've realized you didn't need that 3 month old tub of yogurt anymore or because you just don't feel like carrying it to your new place. Whatever the reason, you find excuses to dump out the unnecessary clutter, which is always nice. The bad thing about moving is the obvious. During the last two weeks, I had been on a mission to move six years worth of crap into a 1,165 sq ft apartment. It sounds big, right? Well, it's not. I mean, it's a great apartment, but it's not big enough for me to store all my stuff. I even had to sell my entertainment center because it wouldn't fit in my room. Time to put my tetris skills into good use.

School is starting soon. I really miss that. I love office/school supplies. I love the beginning of a new school year. I wish I was going back, too. I never thought I'd ever say that. But in any case, the thought of school beginning is really motivating me to start studying again. I mean, really studying. Like, it-was-nice-knowing-you-Janice studying. I will probably be MIA for a while, so please excuse my absence, friends. It's nothing personal. It's just time for me to get moving again. New apartment. New routine. New goals.

I've been getting a lot of dreams with him in it recently. I think it's because last August was when we moved out. Last August was the beginning of the end. Or was it the end of the beginning? Nevertheless, we were physically separated. We were done with a long time before then, but we were physically forced apart this time last year. Maybe that's the reason for all the dreams. The dreams usually consist of very little or no contact with him. I just see him from a distance, and I wonder if he recognizes or even remembers me. When I wake, I'm a little sad, but it's not so bad. Not nearly as bad as before. Is this progress? I hope so.

I was talking about anime with my sister this past weekend. She was visiting me before school started. I always have a fun time with her. She makes me very merry happy. Anyway, she was talking to me about animes and how she hates fillers, and I realized that my life is an anime. My personal life, that is. I had this great story going, and then all of a sudden, the writers of my life go on strike, and I'm stuck with all these fillers. All these guys that I keep thinking will make a great story with me just end up disappointing and making my life worse.

But, stories are stories. I've always been a storyteller. I moved from a second story apartment to a third story one. Maybe the stories will keep getting better from here.

Housewarming party coming soon...