I cried real hard yesterday, and then passed out on my bed like a chump because I was emotionally exhausted from the breakdown that happened. This morning I discovered a plot to throw me a going away party, and almost had second cryfest. Instead I made it home and determined that if I'm at risk of passing out on my bed again due to emotions, I may as well make a giant glass of creamsicle drank with extra pinnacle vodka and just pass out that way. Same end result, more orangey goodness.
Spelunking is not for the faint of heart, as Not-So-Tall Tales of the ICU will tell you. This blogger is way funnier than I am, although I guess that isn't really saying much is it?
I strongly dislike packing, and will put if off for a long as possible. I will probably sell all of my furniture and be sleeping on the floor before I decide to actually start consolidating three years' worth of shit into boxes.
Why didn't anyone hear Helen Keller when she fell off the cliff?
She was wearing mittens!