Being done with all this work has made me realize a few things. One, when I'm not working, I hardly ever go near my computer. At least, I'm not going near my computer very much right now. I'm not sure whether this is because I don't go near my computer ever, or whether I'm not going near it right now because the very thought makes me want to break out in hives. Either way, I'm going to have to get over it, but first I need to give myself a few days to recover naturally. So my apologies if posting is a bit sporadic over the next week or two. I'll get back to it, but right now I need to feel untied.
Two, now that I'm done working, I need to pack. In a happy constellation of events, the following things conspired to afford me a month at home with my family this summer. One, I couldn't afford my rent, two, I had a frequent flyer ticket available. Three, I'm leaving for up to a year very very soon, and I wanted to go home and bond before I leave. So I subleased my apartment, got a ticket home, and am solid gold. Beach, garden, mom, dad, dogs, brothers, sister, I'm on my way. The only downside is that I need to pack all my shit away in storage bins for a long haul, condition my car for storage, get months of prescriptions filled (ouch! $$) for antihistamines and birth control pills, and the million other chores. AND I DON'T WANT TO!! I mean, hello world, didn't you get the memo? I'm done! And I resent being forcefully returned to reality.
Three, I'm leaving town NEXT WEEK! Gah, that's fast. First off to Bend, Oregon for a reunion with some of my best girlfriends from college, then to Minneapolis for a history conference I'm presenting at (anybody in Minneapolis have a great suggestion for things to do or places to see while I'm there?), and then home. How do I pack for this? Three different suitcases? One MASSIVE suitcase? Should I just surrender now and commit to wearing only overalls, galoshes, and a tanktop all summer?
In other news, I just learned that my parents have started shooting squirrels with an air rifle to keep them away from the bird feeder. Dad's managed to kill a few, but Mom has apparently turned the bird feeder into a colander. More thoughts on this later.