Day of Rest
May. 10th, 2004 12:07 pmThis is my last day to prepare before I officially take off. Had fun in the South, I have now been to 47 states (and if time starts getting short come the February deadline I might start mysteriously counting the multiple layovers in Atlanta as visiting GA). So I'm puttering around and washing laundry.
And I shall be starting my new journal. Unbeknowst to most people, I sporadically keep a diary. I start with great intentions, and then forget. But Crazy Marine friend gave me a sweet moleskin journal, and I shall fill it up. I calculate a page and a half a day should make it last for this trip. It has no use except to chronicle the silly things that catch my interest that I am not going to divulge here, due to lack of interest and/or sensitivities (for example, my gushing about how sweet Tom is because he will drive to the airport three times for me this week despite the fact he hates that drive and have a mocha frappuccino waiting for me as I step off the plane and how much cooler that is than the stereotypical Southern boy romanticism).
Tasks today include calling parents and begging them to take bookshelves, buying Dr. Bronner's soap and high tech Nalgene bottles to travel with, and paying the deposit on the apartment.
And sleeping. I did not sleep last night at all. No good reason, just restless. Watched the ultimate silly reality show, that could be a new addiction if I wasn't fleeing the country. Airline. Watch the silly dramas of an airport. Makes me wonder if why I don't ever have penguins on my flights.
And I shall be starting my new journal. Unbeknowst to most people, I sporadically keep a diary. I start with great intentions, and then forget. But Crazy Marine friend gave me a sweet moleskin journal, and I shall fill it up. I calculate a page and a half a day should make it last for this trip. It has no use except to chronicle the silly things that catch my interest that I am not going to divulge here, due to lack of interest and/or sensitivities (for example, my gushing about how sweet Tom is because he will drive to the airport three times for me this week despite the fact he hates that drive and have a mocha frappuccino waiting for me as I step off the plane and how much cooler that is than the stereotypical Southern boy romanticism).
Tasks today include calling parents and begging them to take bookshelves, buying Dr. Bronner's soap and high tech Nalgene bottles to travel with, and paying the deposit on the apartment.
And sleeping. I did not sleep last night at all. No good reason, just restless. Watched the ultimate silly reality show, that could be a new addiction if I wasn't fleeing the country. Airline. Watch the silly dramas of an airport. Makes me wonder if why I don't ever have penguins on my flights.