Gee

So the movers just came and did an inventory. There's nothing like having a stranger evaluate your belongings to enhance your already tenuous grasp on adulthood. Suddenly the haphazard artwork, the six foot cutout of Jordi LaForge, the giant 'bean bag' chair seem infantile. Fortunately is was a middle aged dude who did the survey, so there was no trace of the my mother's raised eyebrows at my less than hygienic cleaning habits. If he was of that opinion, he kept it to himself. His only personal comment was, "You got a lot of books." Which really is more a statement of fact, because we do.
Yeah, so it's really happening. I'm leaving the Lou. I should be saying, "It's about fucking time." But I've grown to love it in the last two years. I'm sure some of my regret is garnered by the fact that I am not leaving for a shiny metropolis, but I'm actually really looking forward to investigating the weird eclectic vibe I got from Columbus, so I think it's just that STL is my home and it always kinda will be.
But seriously, we're moving in less than a month. Eep.
Also I will be 25 in two days. Eeep.
And I still haven't written my first book (or accomplished ANYTHING). So much for prodigy.