I can't seem to get things done fast enough. I can't seem to get things done period.

I don't mind moving out. This apartment has bad vibes now anyway. Also, I've lived in it for 3 1/2 years and that's entirely too long. But this move isn't on my terms. It's not my choice. I guess that's what is distressing about it. I don't like not having a choice. I don't like decisions forced upon me.

All I've done since I've been home is sleep. I have done some laundry. I got my couch out and my ottoman and a couple of the kitchen chairs. I took everything down from the walls. I've done some laundry. I've vacuumed. I've thrown some things away. But I havne't even made a dent. It's amazing to me how much crap I've accumulated. And even more amazing how little I need any of it.

I'm done bellyaching. I'm going to download some more music and accomplish not a lot more tonight.

Tallboys and cigarettes are my crutch this evening.

Hopefully I'll rise early and get this shit done. There's not much else to do.

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