The Agony of Moving

Dear Readers,
It's that time of the year again. The furniture seems to be moving closer, the road looks like its trying to become a gate, the trees wave goodbye. That's right peeps, its moving time! But its not only moving time; its the "I'm moving into my own apartment, need to buy a whole new set of supplies" moving. aka, I'm trying to find a TV at the lowest price possible.

But its not only that readers. Its packing up the life I left behind in August, trying to find those scattered remains from this summer in the boxes and cabinets of a house that still feels a little strange to be staying in. Not only has it been tiring - almost everything has been buried under a mountain of my sister's stuff - but its also been a little sad. Sad because I have to unearth everything, that this will be my last trip down to Santa Barbara for the purpose of moving into Westmont, maybe that from this point on "home" will be a transitive place. And its scary to think about. Which might be the reason why those boxes have remained underneath the house, gathering dust among the other obscurities and faded memories that have long since gone out of style.

They're all in the car at home now, awaiting my final goodbyes to family and friends and that sound of the key in the ignition. Maybe this is just life; those final moments in which the inevitable is coming, yet you are holding onto those slippery seconds like they are your last tie to life. Hm.