Klee5389’s Weblog

Life is silly. Everything is routine and persistent–even those changes that you least expect, the changes that barge in and interrupt the precious flow of everyday life, the changes that people fear and worry about. Worrying is routine…it’s all routine. People worry too much about their current lives when their future-selves really could care less. Let me explain.

Due to certain circumstances that you either already know, will figure out, or will find out later from myself, my parents have sold the house we’ve been living in since I was born. Well, actually since I was two, but does it matter? Same thing, same thing. Who can disinguish anything during the period from when one is born to two years later? Maybe some can, but….I digress.

So, not only will I be moving into Stevens Court Building L up at the UW, but I will also be moving my belongings to yet another apartment and a condo–both pretty much simultaneously. At first I was ecstatic. Amazingly excited–a new condo AND two new apartments?! Oh, yes, a new adventure, new neighborhoods, new furniture, new cabinets that were built too high so that I can’t reach them, etc, etc.

But as I sit here typing this, with boxes stacked on my left, right, in front of me, and behind me, with three incredibly loud flies that I’m not even going to bother shooing out of the house buzzing around, with my clothes strewn about on the floor with a very likely chance of becoming wrinkled, I am absolutely dreading this move; in some ways, it’s funny, in some other ways, for obvious reasons, it’s not really, but understandable. This past week has been the most emotionally-draining week of my life. This next week will be exactly the same, if not even more or so.

About 80% of everything in this house have been sent to their new homes, and while I spend probably my last week in my home of sixteen years, I already feel like this isn’t home anymore. All the walls have been raped of pictures, mirrors, and paintings, there are corners of dust where dressers and desks used to be, and most horrifically, there are dead and shriveled up-spiders smushed into the carpet. It’s disgusting. As I’m typing this, one of the flies is staring at me. Anyway, it’s surprising. I thought that your home will always feel like your home, with or without the junk– it’s quite the opposite. Yet, when I went to the condo yesterday, which holds very familiar looking art that I despise but my mother loves and various other knick-knacks, it STILL didn’t feel like home. Truthfully, I felt depressed and mad that things had to end up this way. My head hurt.

But I realize that new memories will be created soon, along with new worries, new thoughts, new everything. Life rolls, it goes on and on. Two months, or maybe even one month down the road, I’ll be complaining about something else. I’ll come across this entry, roll my eyes and hate myself for publishing it, laugh embarassingly, then cast it away to idle by itself in the vast World Wide Web like a lonesome goldfish, just like the times when I thought the world would end because I didn’t get a 4.0 during freshman year. Hilarious. It’s routine, you constantly create worries and complaints, only to throw those out a month or two later to create new ones, ones that seem perennial and will last with you until your deathbed. But as I mentioned, life rolls. Down the road, you’ll laugh about it, think “What the hell was the matter with me?!” and worry some more about those new changes that you find yourself facing. No matter what happens, there will always be new thoughts and new worries. It’s all routine.

I’m done for now. I’m off to vacuum those dead spiders