I have to write something to distance myself from that last post. I keep thinking about deleting it, but I'm still horrified enough that somehow I haven't done it yet.
I'm moving again tomorrow, this time to a whole new house instead of just down the hall. I won't deny that in most ways I truly hate moving: the hassle, the stress, the packing, the unpacking (way worse)... But in some masochistic way I also like going through all my crap. It's interesting to see where I've been, and I'm such a packrat that it's almost all still here with me. I'm finally getting to the point that I'm donating my high school clothes to thrift stores, but that's about as far as I've been able to go. Anyway, I'm happy with this particular move. I'm happy with the person I'm moving in with, and I'm excited to enter this new part of my life. Moving on doesn't have to be bad.
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I've been having a great time going through my crap to find stuff to sell tomorrow. Every summer when I came home from college I would take a huge-ass carload of stuff to goodwill. It is so cathartic.
I'm at a point now where I have clothes I definitely don't want to get rid of because of sentimental value (a crochet hippie vest I bought in 5th grade, the shirt I was wearing when i first kissed Jesse, my high school musical t-shirts) but I don't really want to keep wearing them. So it's like, what to do, what to do.
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