Whining About Moving

Even though I KIND OF feel like I'm being tortured this month (VERY liberal interpretation of torture), the light at the end of the tunnel is the shiniest, prettiest, warmest light I've seen in a while. I'm referring to the moving process.

The other day I took to my journal, which is kind of bad news because I only write privately when I'm REALLY existentially upset (my in-between is notes to people that I never send (yet)). But then at the end, the entry took a pretty optimistic twist. So what I'm saying is... what I just said in the last paragraph. Visible light.

I'm SO GLAD I'm reading Francesca Lee Block now! She talks about the LA area so much, and in Echo, which I'm reading now, Echo has what I can only assume is a bohemian, fairy apartment in Silverlake which is where I'm trying to move!! And I know where the fabric district is now, so I can go and buy $15 of cheap, shimmery fabric to drape everywhere. And I went to an acoustic guitar, lady show the other day with my friend Saralyn and I bought their CDs (because they're cheap and I want to support), so now I have all of this calm, acoustic music. And I have my Venice beach skull. And some incense that I still have from Boston. I'm all set. I'm all inspired to make myself a perfect ambiance.

And maybe I'm running wild with my ideas, but if my room was an Echo-inspired, bohemian fairy land, I bet I'd be tidier. And I bet I'll want to eat brown rice and hummus and berries and seaweed all the time. Or at least some of the time.

Or maybe I'll just start watching network TV in the living room and eating my own tuna casserole. Either way, it's a step up.

And either way, all of this fantasizing is helping to push through looking at apartments and cleaning my room and worrying about my crazy roommate and worrying about whether I'm going to get out in time and worrying about my funds and surprise expenses and worrying about asking my grandpa for the extra money to make all of this happen (even though he offered).

I know that this stuff is perhaps less stressful than the finals and papers I had last year. Although the stakes are homelessness rather than an F. Although we all know that neither of those would ever happen. It seems probable in foresight and completely stupid in hindsight.

Must have more perspective!