≈ box day

...choke. help, help, help, he says. he almost spills his tea on me; the thought makes me flinch. i don't want that stuff to touch me. i made daddy go the same way he made mommy go. without warning. without apology. without regret or guilt. because i am just like him. so much so it makes me sick. and i will laugh like the child i never was. there, with the boxes of all the things i have yet to fix.

...it hasn't been a year yet. A BATCH O' FANART. Mostly Fridge, some Suddenly, a little of neither. Half of this is a month old or so though. OH. AND TODAY WE GOT A NEW TABLE AND CHAIRS AND JUNK AND WE GOT BOXES. LIKE, BIG BOXES I CAN FIT INTO. I WANNA GO PLAY IN 'EM BUT IT'S GETTING LATE. I'M SAVING IT TO PLAY IN LATER THOUGH. I am a very very mature 17 year old, as you can see.

Photobucket's decided to take a leaf out of Microsoft Office's book by giving me 'help' I don't want, i.e. shrinking the pics I upload. Sorry, they'll be a bit on the small side for the next couple of weeks :(

...  I got the bike to the living room. Next I must back this bicycle through the living room obstacle course.  An ottoman, a chair Chad uses to meditate, a couple keyboards, several pillows, a couple boxes, a suitcase, and music stand, and then, the final challenge obstacle, the corner of the couch.  There is less than a half foot space in this corner and the problem is that bicycles are skinny except...

I decided that I would unpack some more boxes tonight.  I've been putting it off for a few weeks now.  I look at them.  Step over them.  Go around them.  They won't unpack themselves so I started going through them and putting stuff away.  It's funny because when I packed them in Boston, I went through all my stuff and donated or threw away a lot of things.  Tonight I was going through the boxes...

...to do and it probably isn't what I would have chosen to do, especially as it was such a nice day.  Anyway, it's good to have stuff of our own again though finding a lot of things will prove difficult - the garage looks like a storage unit! Maybe I'm making excuses as to why I'm probably not going to be doing as much as I'd like to over the next few weeks...after all, so many boxes so little time!

[There's soft humming, gentle, but with no particular tune at first. And then... ] Pop goes the weasel. Simon used to hate that game too. He cried once, I remember. Had to wipe his dripping eyes. [She hums a little again, and now there's the sound of something moving back and forth.] "Out, out, damn spot," she said. "Out."

...hoarders? I can honestly say that I never would have thought my life would have warranted a Maury episode! I feel so ashamed. Here’s the entrance to my upstairs bathroom. See all of those boxes? They are all empty! Which would have been really usefull if we would have bothered to start with the attic in the first place therefore preventing us from buying around 30 extra boxes from a storage...