the ongoing saga of bedlam, packing

1:44 pm: Oh my God, why do I own so many clothes? Do I need this many clothes? I think I have enough shirts to last me through the entire month without even washing any of them. Well. Maybe washing them once. Do I need this many shirts?

1:48 pm: Oh, I have to take stuff other than clothes. Like toiletries.

1:49 pm: Oh, I probably want to take sheets. That'd be a good idea.

1:50 pm: No, seriously, how many clothes do I need? Why isn't my laundry done yet?

1:54 pm: Oh, God, I have to bring the God damn towels, don't I?

2:07 pm: Packed: Extra set of contacts, one. Set of long twin sheets, one. Laundry: darks in dryer, lights in washing machine. Not packed: towels, toiletries, anything except clothes and not even all of those...!

2:15 pm: Oh, shit, I need to bring, ah, feminine necessities, God damn it.

2:17 pm: Still not packed: toiletries, towels, a third of my clothes, contact solution, extra paper...

2:24 pm: Why the hell do I have so many God damn clothes? I don't even wear half these clothes!

2:28 pm: Laundry! GO FASTER.

2:30 pm: DIE DIE DIE. Can't I just stay home so I don't have to pack?

2:40 pm: God damn it, now I have to figure out what books to bring. Not too many, not too few, but I have God damn stopovers to account for. ARGH.

2:44 pm: How the hell long does it take for laundry to get done? GOD. I can't even pack anymore because I need those clothes!

2:51 pm: Screw this, I'm going to go get the mail.

3:00 pm: THERE IS NO MAIL OR NEWSPAPER YET. ALAS. Also, this idea of clothes actually drying in the dryer? Clearly newfangled and unreliable. Half of first load thrown into dryer with second load, fingers crossed.

3:04 pm: THIS WOULD BE A LOT FUNNIER IF IT WASN'T ACTUALLY MY GODDAMNED LIFE.

3:10 pm: ARGH. SEND HELP.

the ongoing saga of bedlam, packing, round two

3:58 pm: Laundry done and DRY. Unfortunately, everything already packed is going on the floor so I can REPACK EVERYTHING. CURSE YOU, TRAVELING.

4:02 pm: How many God damned pairs of pants do I need? GOD. DEATH DEATH DEATH.

4:17 pm: Have acquired different and larger suitcase, green. Let's try this again, once more with feeling.

5:05 pm: Holy God, why do I own all this stuff? Seriously, why do I own all this stuff? Why am I taking it to the other side of the continent with me?

5:44 pm: God damn it, now I just want to die a lot. One argument with my mother later -- DEATH DEATH DEATH. Do I need a bathrobe? Do I really care? How long is it until I GET ON A PLANE AND LEAVE TO GO FAR FAR AWAY?

5:56 pm: I QUIT.

By The Numbers:

Jeans: Six pairs.
Sheets: One set, twin extra long, green.
Pads: Half a bag.
Cargo pants: Two pairs.
Shorts: One pair.
Sleeping/Exercise shorts: Two pairs.
Pajama pants: One pair.
Balls of yarn: Two, white and black.
Knitting needles: One pair, size six, purple, aluminum, slightly bent.
Bras: Seven, four white, two green, one black.
Underwear: Guys, I love you, but you don't need to know.
T-shirts: Fourteen Sixteen.
Camis: Five.
Halter-tops: Two.
Number of times the words "DIE DIE DIE" or variants thereof have been uttered: Lots.
Dresses: One.
Skirts: One.
Pairs of socks: Ten, multicolored.
Level of Hatred: 9/10.

ETA: GOD DAMN IT.

(no subject)

OMGWTFBBQ CBS? They did that show years ago and called it "Angel"! YOU IDIOTS. DEATH DEATH DEATH.